Screw Destiny
by celticvampriss
Summary: "There's no way I [kissed you] because I thought that…that you were…" She motioned toward him, the words like lead on her tongue. "That you were my…you and me…were…my…" Killian rolled his eyes. "True love, darling." "Shh!" Emma snapped. Set after events of 2x11. KillianxEmma. Humor/drama/Romance. My idea of them embracing their true love for each other. M for later chapters.
1. A Stupid Kiss

**A/N: Inspiration hit me randomly for this. I am playing with the idea of true love in the world of Once Upon a Time and how it might not always be as well received as one might thing. Plus, I really think that Emma needs a true love because we're dealing with fairy tales. But maybe that's just me. Anyway, this is a sort of comedy romance thing. I was just having fun with it. Events are meant to directly follow episode 11 of season 2, the Outsider. Hope people like and that I got everyone in character. Enjoy. :)**

**Part One**  
**A Stupid Kiss**

Who liked hospitals? Really? Emma stood in that hallway sure to her very core, that no one could like being inside a hospital. The only reason you might ever go to one? Is for increasing degrees of not good things. Currently, Emma Swan was working.

Whatever the mess that had happened last night, and it was all still too confusing, had left quite a few people in some bad states. Belle was currently unconscious, she had not been mortally wounded but had needed surgery for a bullet wound. There was some stranger that no one seemed to know in the ICU, he was a whole other mess to deal with. Gold was a mess of rage and profound sadness. From what Emma could gather, Belle had been pushed over the town limit. Which meant only one thing. Which meant that Gold probably just lost his one true ally in the town. Not to mention all that true love nonsense. This all brought her to the man lying in the room behind her.

Hook.

Killian Jones. Whatever the hell he wanted to go by, she only wanted to know how the hell he got to Storybrooke. If there was any sort of shock felt by her upon seeing him lying there, pool of blood, nearly lifeless, it was the shock of seeing him at all. Once the injured had been brought in to receive care, Emma had had to nearly fight Gold to keep him away from Hook. He claimed that Hook was responsible but wasn't fully able to articulate responsible for what. Emma could guess. It didn't make her job any easier and she certainly felt for the man who could make Rumplstiltskin that pissed. Now she was on guard, trying to keep everyone at bay until they could piece together a full story.

Emma propped up a chair, fell back against it, and let her head hit the wall. One night and suddenly she had more problems than she had ever had to deal with all compounding at once. The stranger. Belle. Even Regina was still an issue, Emma only hoped that she didn't take all the accusations too personally. That lead her to Cora and there was a whole new mess she didn't even want to consider.

There hadn't been much said about Hook's condition either. He wasn't waking up, but all the tests they had done showed he hadn't suffered any serious injury. He looked worse than he actually was. Though he'd taken some serious bruising, they couldn't see why he was still unconscious. As if his mind simply wasn't responding to the world the way it should. Like he was sleeping on purpose. Whatever that meant.

When the tension made her fidgety, Emma stood up and tried walking off the jitters. She rubbed at her shoulders and peeked into the open room behind her. He hadn't even moved. Not a stir. She brushed it off and then found herself face to face with her mother and jumped.

"Holy hell." Emma put a hand to her chest. The hallway had been so quiet for so long she hadn't expected to see anyone. Snow held out a free hand and steadied her. "You can be really quiet you know that?"

Her mother smiled. "I didn't mean to scare you. I just thought you could use this." She held up the other hand, which had a steaming cup of coffee.

Emma let her shoulders sag. "Most definitely. Thank you."

"Don't mention it." Snow glanced into Hook's room and frowned. "Is he still in danger then? From Gold?"

"I believe so." Emma said with a sigh. "Whatever he did, it was probably really reckless and stupid."

"Why do you say that?" Snow probed, inching closer. Her face was serious as she searched her daughter, looking into her eyes which made Emma half smile.

"It, uh, what?"

"What?" Snow shook her head.

"What're you staring at?" Emma clarified.

Snow played with the hair behind her ear. "I wasn't. Staring."

Emme rolled her eyes. "You _were_ staring. Why so defensive?"

Snow smiled. "You're too observant."

"Yeah, kinda my job." Emma smiled back.

"Anyway, I wasn't staring to be intrusive. It's just…" Snow headed toward Hook's room, frowning. "Ugh. I've been debating with myself all night. Do I say something? Don't I? It's the right thing to do. But then it's Hook we're talking about and—"

"Whoa. Mary Margret. Slow down." Emma put her hand on her mother's shoulder. "Breathe. Okay? Now what is it?"

Snow bit her lip and then nodded to her daughter. "It caught my eye immediately. You don't _not_ notice these things…when you've been…" She closed her eyes and opened them. "Emma, I know enchanted sleep when I see it. He's not going to wake up."

"What?" Emma let her go, stepping backward.

"I don't know how…or who…but I know that this is magic. That's why…that's why he won't wake up." She picked at her finger nail and glanced up at her daughter. Emma was staring at Hook, worry in her eyes and Snow wanted to believe it was professional worry. "There is…obviously, only the one way to break an enchanted slee—"

"True love's kiss." Emma finished and then swallowed the lump in her throat.

Snow watched her. "Yeah."

"Then what do we do? He can't just lay here forever…but he's not dead either." She put a hand to her head, wrestling with the practicality of their options.

"He just has to wait for true love's kiss, Emma." Snow offered calmly.

Emma shook her head. "But she's dead. I mean, I assume it's her. The…what was her name? Mia, or something. He's got a tattoo of her and I'm pretty sure she's dead. So…" Emma's shoulders sank. "So he's stuck like this."

"If she was his true love, then yes." Snow let out an even breath, staring at Hook.

"What are you implying?" Emma turned toward her, finally recognizing the hesitation in her mother's answers.

"I'm not implying anything. I just mean that it's always possible she's still out there. We just don't know." Snow squeezed Emma's hand once. "I should get back. I told Charming I wouldn't be long."

Emma watched her leave before looking back into Hook's room. She stepped forward, looking down at him as she neared the bed. The arm with the tattoo was facing up and she saw the name she had forgotten. Milah. She felt sorry for him. Then she heard movement outside the door and she strode quickly for it. When she was met with the face she actually had been expecting she placed a cautious hand to the holster on her hip.

"I need you to back up now, Mr. Gold." Emma warned. His eyes were still harsh, but he made no movement to advance.

"I think I can be of use." He stated.

Emma wanted to laugh. "Yeah, I'm sure you could, but right now I can't let you anywhere near him. He may be a dirtbag, but it's my job to protect him until we can find out exactly what happened. It's called due process."

"I know what it's called, Miss Swan. And I can already tell you exactly what happened. He shot Belle and that, in turn, pushed her over the town limits. I had intended to end his life right there, but the car interfered. That's the truth of it, if I'm being concise."

Emma nodded. "Very. And I believe you, but that still doesn't mean I can let you hurt him."

"No, I suppose you can't. However, I'm not here to hurt him. Not now, at any rate." He hadn't smiled once, which was unlike him. Even when he was being particularly devious he smiled. "Forgive me, but I couldn't help but overhear you and your lovely mother." He motioned to where Snow had just left. "She seems to be under the impression that this unconsciousness is the result of magic?"

Nodding again, Emma eased the hold on her holster. "About that…"

"It wasn't me." He cut her off, answering before she could ask. "I assure you, if any magic caused by me had made contact with _him_, he'd be dead." Gold held her eyes with his. "What I'm here to do is to see if this is actually the work of magic."

"Why?" Emma narrowed her eyes.

He smiled. "Because if he is cursed then it would make job so much easier. You see, if he _is_ cursed, then he'd be stuck. Forever sleeping and never allowed to die. I doubt that anyone in this world or ours could awaken him. Not any more, at any rate. So I'd be delighted to learn for myself."

Emma glanced over her shoulder. "I suppose it can't hurt…if you promise not to lay a finger on him." She warned. "If he isn't cursed, you can't go and kill him."

He didn't seem happy about this, but he nodded. "That's fair. I promise that he will receive no harm by my hand this night. After tonight, I make no promises."

Emma stepped out of the doorway, allowing him space to enter. "That's fair."

Gold stepped forward, his face instantly contorted when his eyes fell on Hook. Emma worried for a second before he held out a hand to quiet her. "Don't worry, Miss Swan. I made a promise." He looked Hook over, keeping his distance. Then he got close to his face and bent down.

"What're you—" Emma was silence before she could protest.

"I need to check his eyes." He said quietly, then, with shaking fingers, he pried one eye open. Emma was watching, slightly anxious and mostly curious. Then Gold stepped back and began to clean off his hands. "All that damned eye-liner."

"Is he cursed or what?" Emma asked, jumping to the point. Gold started his exit. "Gold?"

"Oh, he's cursed all right. But it wasn't by any outside force."

"What?"

Gold cleared his throat and turned, already half out the door. "He's lost the will to live, dearie. He's there because his entire reason for living is now suddenly gone. He's exacted his revenge on me. With nothing left, there was nothing in him to cause him to wake. It's punishment enough…for now."

Emma watched Gold leave and then looked down on Hook. People always looked innocent when they slept, their faces usually much more serene than it ever is when awake, not so for Hook. His eyes were drawn shut and his lips were a frown, but they were frozen that way. Unmoving.

"Man." Emma sighed. "I can't imagine a worse kind of hell." She looked him over. He wasn't dead, but he'd never wake again. Not without some kiss he was never going to get. She chuckled. True love had always been so unrealistic. Even with all that had happened, with her parents and all the other stories she now knew were true, even then it still seemed so…unfathomable. To a person like her it just didn't make sense for someone to have that one soul mate. That one person meant to be with them no matter what the odds. That just didn't happen in the world she knew. People didn't work like that. She wasn't soured enough to believe that love was unattainable. For most, well adjusted, people it worked out just fine. Even in the world outside Storybrooke. People got together and were happy. But they were usually one in thousands and she knew enough about herself to know that it could never happen for her. For Hook too, she would imagine. They were very much alike.

Emma put her hands in her pockets. "You've got it worse than me, though, huh?" She spoke to him, even if he couldn't probably hear her. It was nice to talk to someone without worrying about what they would say. "I may not ever find happiness in that sense, but at least I can find it in other ways." She thought of Henry. "You're stuck here. Stuck." She sighed. "Magic shouldn't work like that. There has to be some other way to break this thing without it being some…unrealistic kiss." She frowned. "The whole thing seems silly. Magic should have plan Bs. Or loop holes." She chuckled again. "Listen to me? A year ago and I would have thought myself insane going on about magic like this. I still think I'm a little insane…I mean, there's a…shit ton of stuff going on that could drive anyone over the edge. You and this whole curse thing being the least of the problems."

Funnily enough, she had never actually hated him. She had left him behind in the Giant's house simply because she hadn't hated him. He carried on way too much about trust and opening up for her liking. That, and she knew she had a soft spot for the cocky ones. If she let it continue there was little doubt in her mind that he'd keep trying to coax her into making a mistake. She couldn't risk that. Not with Henry. Hook might have been fun for that first night, if she had indulged, but more than that was asking for trouble. So she had said a flat out no. Plus, it did him some good to hear it. She couldn't say that she hadn't enjoyed rejecting his flirting. Which is why it had been so hard to.

"The most powerful magic in all the world…is true love's kiss."

Emma scoffed at the idea. "What's so special about true love's kiss? I can't imagine it would feel any different than, say, non true love's kiss." She pursued her lips and then it dawned on her and she recoiled, turning around as if he could actually see her blush.

"What…the _hell_ am I doing?" She shook out her hands. All the talk of kissing had made her mind jump to places she rather it didn't. Like attempting to do just that.

_But what could it hurt?_

Emma blinked. Did her mind just…talk on its…no that couldn't be it. She frowned, puzzled. Her thoughts were definitely not her own. They were totally being influenced by something…sinister by the look of it. It kept turning her around and making her eyes fall onto his face. All this talk of magic…maybe someone was really trying to get her to…do what she would never, ever, do…and…

Emma slapped herself. "Get a grip." She ordered. "No one is kissing anyone. Not in this room. Not today."

As if her mind truly were against her, she could picture Hook's reaction if he had been able to hear her. She thought she saw him smirking, despite his sleep, but then she shook her head and he was frowning again. "What the hell are you still doing here, Emma?" She said this aloud and wondered exactly why she couldn't get her feet to carry her out the door. Where it was safer.

Her feet had moved and she found herself nearer to the bed instead of further. Good grief. If the universe was giving her a nudge, it wasn't really focused on subtlety. "Okay, I get the point, but you're wrong." She said aloud. "There's no such thing."

Hook's lips didn't look any less inviting.

Emma licked her own and her hand rested on the sheets, careful not to in any way touch him. "Only to prove you wrong." She said aloud again, to no one. "Only to prove…this kind of thing doesn't happen in the real world…" She leaned down and it felt ridiculous, but she just kept falling forward. When she stopped it was only when their lips were touching, but she couldn't even call it a kiss. Not at first. The spark of it, the wave of energy, were much more pressing to her. Her eyes went wide and she froze. Then her mind told her, _ha, it didn't work. _Her eyes grew even wider when she felt him turning her gesture into a real kiss, lifting his head into her lips and even beginning to open his mouth…

"Holy shit." Emma sprang backward, hand wiping at her lips.

Hook blinked, groaned and then smirked. "Should I feel violated?"

* * *

**A/N: I needed a reason for Emma to kiss him so I sort of made it like...the universe coaxing her into it. That's probably lame, but I didn't want to not finish the story because of that one detail. I was debating between having Cora put Hook under the curse or having it be a self inflicted thing because of the talk of him being suicidal at the end of the episode. I chose the more dramatic option. Oh, and I know the tone of parts of this should be a touch darker, but I wanted a more comedic feel. It does get angsty, cause he is really hurt after everything, but I don't give it much play. I focused on the funny banter between these two. Next chapter is all banter. ;)**


	2. I Will Seriously Kill You

**A/N: And que amazing Captain Swan banter...**

**Part Two  
I...Will Seriously Kill You  
**

Killian didn't know what was happening exactly. He awoke to a most pleasant feeling near his mouth and found himself responding automatically. He recognized Emma and could not resist poking a bit of fun. She seemed most startled by something, though presently, he couldn't think to why.

Emma was shaking, truly startled. Killian tried to move but, holy hell, he felt like he'd been dropped off a cliff. The surroundings were all too foreign. Some sort of Storybrooke facility for healing if he were thinking right. But it still wasn't ringing true on why he would need to be there, in some horribly unflattering garb of thin cotton.

"You…you're…" Emma covered her lovely mouth. "Holy shit." She repeated.

Killian raised an eyebrow. "That good, eh? Imagine, love, that was only a kiss."

Her mouth instantly hardened and he was happy to see the spook had started to leave her eyes. They were much more serious now and so prettily annoyed with him. Now she spoke more sternly and thankfully with more clarity.

"You were asleep."

He glanced around him, still unable to quite manage sitting up. "Indeed I was. Until you decided to kiss me. Not that I'm upset, mind you. Bound to happen sooner or later. But I think more pressing is why am I here and feel as if I've been dragged behind a horse for half a league?"

Emma looked him over. "You were hit by a car."

"A what?"

"A car-never mind. That's not important." She wrung her hands together and then glanced at the door before striding forward quickly and shutting it. Killian watched her, growing wary.

"Have I missed something?" He asked, noting the sudden locking of the door.

"Uh, well, do you remember anything?"

He sought to retrieve the memories of what she was referring to, but nothing came to him. Emma put a finger to her mouth as she waited. Killian remembered his run in with the Crocodile and that meddlesome girl of his, but he didn't remember much after they had departed. It all began to blur together.

"I'll take that as a no." Emma said quickly.

He pushed himself into a sitting position, wincing slightly. Whatever a car was, he was not keen on meeting one again anytime soon. "Come, Emma, you're much too jumpy for nothing to be amiss. Would you spit it out?"

Emma frowned, shrugging. "I'm not sure if I want to tell you just yet."

He looked at her like she was being a stubborn child. "Don't be so timid. It doesn't suit you." Plus, he was starting to get worried. Whatever had her fidgeting was cause to worry.

His goading worked. She lifted her chin and made to counter his jab at her bravado. "You're not going to be so happy about this either." She warned.

"Let me decide that, thank you. Now come on. Out with it."

She sighed. "You were in an enchanted sleep."

Killian paused. "And?"

Emma stepped toward him, staring him down. "You were in an _en-chant-ed_ sleep."

Killian shook his head, starting to laugh. "I really don't see what the point…oh"

Emma nodded.

She was telling the truth. Emma was too easy to read for him not to know that she was telling him the truth. And the truth of it was falling on him like a weight. His eyes glazed, unfocused on her. He needed to…vanish. To simply let this wash over him and blow over. But it doesn't just blow over. This sort of thing never does. Killian's eyes focused back on Emma and she hefted her shoulders, hands held out.

"Surprise."

Killian swallowed the lump growing in his dry throat. "So then you woke me."

"I didn't mean to." Emma defended.

He huffed. "Then why the bloody devil would you kiss me? You never kiss someone in an enchanted sleep unless you intend to wake them." He paused mid rant, then eyed her. "Did you…intend to wake me?"

"Of course not." She snapped, offended. "I only meant to…look I lost a bit of control there. Okay? I was trying to prove…doesn't matter. There's no way I was doing it because I thought that…that you were…" She motioned toward him, the words like lead on her tongue. "That you were my…you and me…were…my…"

Killian rolled his eyes. "True love, darling."

"Shh." Emma waved her hand at him. "Don't say it…out loud."

"Why? Who would hear me that you're so afraid? Not exactly what you thought you'd be bringing home to meet the parents? Snow White and Prince Charming not too keen on their daughter settling for a pirate?" He was harsher than he intended, but this whole thing was throwing him off. Not only was his head throbbing and his body sore in every conceivable muscle, but he was still trying to hash out a memory of how he had gotten here. Emma's little surprise of kissing him awake was really just the ice in the whiskey.

"Well you don't sound so happy yourself." Emma scolded. "I might be offended if I actually cared about your opinion."

Killian let out a breath. "I don't know what I feel about the subject, if it makes you feel any better."

"Yeah, me either." She agreed. Killian was glad they could at least agree on that. Emma Swan had merely been a pretty face that had turned into a possibility for some good fun for him. He had not considered anything on par with love. And with everything else weighing on him…he didn't know what to think about it.

Emma looked at him pointedly. "What do we do?"

"How should I know?" He snorted, finding her confusion a bit humorous. "I suppose there's always marriage, lots of love making," he winked, "and then happily ever after. Isn't that how this sort of thing goes…for normal people? But then again I think in most circumstances, the people involved were actually in love first and that made things easier. No offense, but I don't think I could claim to be in love with you. Besides, you stole my job as the one doing the waking. It's emasculating and I won't forgive you for stealing that."

"Really?" Emma huffed. "We're faced with the prospect of being each other's…destiny or whatever and you're worried about your male ego?"

"Someone's got to worry about it." He countered.

"Okay." She spoke firmly, stopping him from making any further comments. She ran her fingers over her face. "Okay. Look. I think we need to decide something right now."

"And that would be?"

"I know that…magic says we're…we're…_that_." She cleared her throat. "But do we believe it?"

Killian raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, why should we let something like magic or fate or whatever decide what we don't think is right? I don't feel it. You just said that you don't love me. So maybe the magic is wrong. Maybe it…got confused or maybe you weren't really in an enchanted sleep. Whatever the reason, I just want to establish this now. We are on the same page here?"

Killian leaned back, closing his eyes briefly as pain flared in his back upon contact with the pillow. "Do you really loathe the idea so much, Miss Swan?"

"I…" She let her hand fall to her side. "Don't turn this into hurting feelings. I'm not trying to…insult you. Really, if I was you'd know it. I simply don't think we're really each other's true love."

"Hm. Interesting."

"What?"

"I find it fascinating that you are _so_ afraid to be close to anyone that you'd fight the very universe to get away from it. Like it or not, love, magic cannot be wrong. Whatever we feel now, we were meant for one another. While I may not fully appreciate that at the moment, I wasn't about to write the idea off so easily. In fact, seeing as how you're so adamant to be away from me, I think I feel something now." He put his hand over his chest. "What's this? Oh yes, my heart is most assuredly beating solely for the love of Emma Swan."

Emma groaned, grinding her teeth. "I have a weapon and I have no moral problems shooting a guy in a hospital."

He shook his head. "You expect me to stop and yet you make it so engaging."

"I don't do it to encourage you." She huffed.

"I disagree." He held up a finger. "I think you know exactly what you are doing, Miss Swan. I think, though you may not love me, you love that I tease. That is why you make it so easy to goad you."

"Then I'll keep that in mind the next time you try it. I'll be sure not to do any sort of tempting." She hissed.

"You may try, love, but you're trapped now. Destiny says so. I didn't make the rules."

"You're really not going to let this go?" She crossed her arms. "You're really going to believe that I'm your one true love?"

"Yes, I think I will." He smirked.

Emma took a step forward. "I didn't want to do this, but you're not leaving me much choice."

"Emma, please, can't it wait until we're both in the bed?"

"All right, that's it." She set her gaze straight on him. "You really believe I'm your true love? The only woman meant to be with you? The one soul meant to be paired with yours?" He waited for her to continue when she paused and then she grabbed his wrist and held up his hand. "Then what about Milah?"

Any jest in his eyes died at the mention of the name. He stared at the tattoo and then up at Emma's determined eyes. "I never claimed she was my true love."

"No, but you did love her." Emma countered. "And you loved her enough to spend years plotting your revenge. Then, when you finally got it…" Emma let out a breath. "You loved her enough to lose the will to live."

"Pardon me?" Killian asked darkly. "I don't recall getting any sort of reven—" The sound of the gun was the first thing he remembered. The noise had been deafening. And with that shot he had taken the Crocodile's true love from him. And then there was nothing. He'd done his job and that job had consumed so much of him that when it was done there was nothing left. He had thrown himself in front of that contraption. He had meant to die.

But he hadn't. He had, somehow, put himself into an enchanted sleep. A sleep that Emma had woken him from.

"I should have died." He whispered.

Emma's tone softened. "I know. But you didn't. And now you're stuck here, cause I'm sorry, but suicide is sort of illegal in this land."

Killian's eyes fell on her humorlessly. "You should have left me here. You don't know what you've done by waking me."

Emma had the grace to lower her eyes. "I get it."

"Pardon? You get what?"

"I get it." She repeated. "You're upset. You've wanted Gold for so long that you've forgotten everything else. You don't know what to do with yourself. I get that, I really do, but…but now you've got to find a new purpose. You have to find something else to live for. I did." She said and he raised an eyebrow, his mood a little lighter but still shadowed.

"Your boy."

"Yeah."

"Well, in case you haven't noticed, I don't have any children to distract me."

"Then you'll find something else—"

"It is not so easy, Emma." He let out a breath. "You are young. You have not devoted years-decades of your life to one task. One purpose. That purpose is done now and you cannot know how…how little it leaves behind."

"Then…then we'll figure something out. Nothing happens over night. It's been a day. Why don't you give it a week and then see if you still want to kill yourself. All right?"

Killian glanced up at her. "My, Emma, correct me if I'm wrong, but it sounds like you care."

"Get over yourself. I don't want you to die. It doesn't mean I'm in love with you, okay?"

He didn't answer, but he gave her an almost smile. Looking up at her, he sighed. "So. Not to sound tedious, but what do we do now?"

"I have no idea." She groaned.

"You do concede that it is a 'we,' then?" He couldn't help himself and her instant irritation had made it worth it.

"Can't you turn it off, for like, a second? Or does everything out of your mouth have to be something irritating?"

"To be fair, you did say you would stop making it so easy for me." He winked then and she reeled back. "And I think you know firsthand that not everything about my mouth is irritating."

"Please. I've had better." She eyed him and he frowned, stung.

"Honestly?"

Emma shrugged. "Sure. Plenty."

"Plenty?" He huffed. "You're lying."

Emma turned her head away from him.

"You're baiting me, Miss Swan, I can tell. For a minute, you almost had me believing you." He even smirked after that. "Realistically, you're not likely to receive anything better ever again."

"Wow. You're so conceited it's astonishing."

"Oh, it's not vanity, Emma. We're true love now. It's a fact that you will not get better than I can give you. That kiss will be the best you will ever have, unless of course you wish to try again while I'm conscious."

"Yeah, keep dreaming."

"Suit yourself."

"But really, can we lay off the true love stuff? It's freaking me out."

"I don't know if I can make that promise." He tried to cross him arms and then winced and set his arms back down at his sides. "But, at the moment, I could be persuaded into any kind of deal if you could make this pain subside even slightly."

Emma pointed at him, a bit excited. "I can."

"Truly?"

"Truly." She stated. "And I will, but you have to promise to drop the true love stuff."

"I cannot simply forget it, Emma. And neither can you."

"Then just drop it for now. Give me time to think. And if you really have to talk about it, then we have to be alone. Completely. No chance of eavesdropping." She waited for him to agree.

Killian's first thought was a shady comment on them being alone but the pain was increasing. "Agreed."

"Say it." She pressed.

"Emma, this is bordering on cruelty."

"Say it or no pain killers." She said.

Killian rolled his eyes and even that caused him pain. "Fine. We share one night of passion, I don't bring it up again, and if I do I do so only when there is no chance of being overheard."

"Wait. Wait. Wait." She shook her head.

"What? Is that not word for word what you said?"

"It certainly was not." She protested. "I never mentioned some…night of passion—"

"I have already accepted, Miss Swan. There's no cause for pleading." He winked despite the discomfort.

"I should leave you here." She snapped. "Walk right out and let you suffer through the night. We'll see how mouthy you are in the morning."

"Please, I apologize. It was bad form. Ill conceived. I'm deluded by pain. Have a heart, Emma."

She crossed her arms. "I really shouldn't care…"

He turned large pleading eyes on her.

Emma remained firm.

He gave her a timid little smile despite the pain.

"Damn it, okay. Turn off the…" She had wanted to say 'cute', but she wasn't about to get him going again. "...the puppy face. I'll grab a nurse."

"You're a merciful angel." He groaned, the pain doubling with each second. He did not know what magic this realm held that might ease his pain, but whatever it was, he hoped it worked quickly.

* * *

**A/N: ...and end scene. I could write for Killian all day and never get bored. I just love the way he uses language. It's like sophisticated perv. I don't know. They're awesome. Hope you enjoyed it. One final wrap up chapter where Killian gets a little high...**


	3. He Wants Barrels of Morphine Yo Ho

**A/N: This was intended to be the last chapter. I, however, find the Captain Swan muses to be gracious with me and too many ideas are occurring to me to stop. I don't know how far I will take this, but for now I don't plan on stopping. More Captain Swan moments to come! ^_^  
**

**Part Three  
He Wants Barrels of Morphine...Yo Ho!  
**

Emma strode from the room and found a nurse. After checking him over, the nurse began to adjust his medicine accordingly, upping the pain medication. By the time she left Hook was already less rigid. His blue eyes were beginning to fog and he wasn't smirking, but grinning.

"Whatever this stuff is, I want barrels of it." He chuckled as if this was funny.

"Just remember your promise." Emma hissed under her breath. Hook's head flopped to the side and he squinted at her.

"When did you grow a second head?"

"Okay. That's enough pain medication for you." She went to push the supply out of his reach and Killian groaned.

"But when I push this button it makes the dust glow." He protested feebly.

"How much of this did you take?" She had to nearly catch him when he tried to reach the machine she was pushing away from him. He didn't answer until he was propped back up on his pillows, his head lolling on his shoulders.

"I pushed it four times."

"That explains the hallucinations." She mumbled.

"Emma!" He sat up and she had to ease him backward. "Just think of it."

"Think of what?" She prodded absently, trying to make sure he wouldn't be falling to the floor when she left.

"All the possibilities of you with two heads. Two mouths means—"

Emma's finger smacked into his mouth. "I suggest you shut up now."

He nodded into her finger, but then quickly started to kiss his way to her fingertip and had opened his mouth when she yanked the hand back. "You're like a walking libido."

"I am what I am, love." He giggled. "Your hair's on fire."

Emma sighed. "No, I think I'd be screaming if it were. Just…go to sleep all ready."

"I'm not tired."

"Yes you are." She argued and was growing frustrated with the whole thing.

"Am not."

"Are too."

"Am not."

"Are too…I'm not doing this with you. I—" He was asleep in an instant. One second awake, the next breathing peacefully. Emma checked over everything and then began to back from the room. She didn't know what she was going to do now. Gold was not going to be happy when he found out and word traveled fast. She probably wouldn't be going home that night. Not if she didn't want to find Killian dead before morning. Gold was beyond worrying about the law, she'd known that from before. Emma pulled her chair to block Killian's door.

And for the record, protecting him did not mean she cared. It was her job. Whatever their relationship ended up being, she was determined to be in control of it. Magic would not tell her who to love and who to hate. If she was going to fall in love with Killian Jones, Captain Hook, then she would do so on her own damn terms. Screw destiny.

_**End...or is it?  
**_

* * *

**A/N: That's the end, or it was the end. My concept on them and the idea of being each other's true love. Shut up, they are and you can't tell me differently. They are CANON I TELL YOU! Any way, hope you enjoyed. And thanks for reading. ^_^  
**

**A continuing supply of Captain Swan ideas compels me to continue writing chapters for this. So there is more to come soon. ^_^  
**


	4. Wait, How is Shooting Someone Illegal?

**A/N: This is just some filler to bridge the more juicy scenes. I don't know if I plan on having the rating go up. I usually do. If anyone cares either way. I favor more...intimate moments. But I'll put a warning before the chapter so people can skip if they want. I know Killian is a bit darker at the end of this, but he'll lighten up. I just need to have him believably affected by all that's happened. He seemed pretty low at the end of that episode and I didn't want to completely ignore that side of him. Enjoy! ^_^  
**

**Part Four  
Wait…How is Shooting Someone Illegal?**

Emma awoke with a stiff neck. And it was no wonder, having fallen asleep in a hospital waiting room chair. Some of the most uncomfortable kind. She winced as she brought life back to her sore limbs. Given a few minutes and they'd ease up, but for now she was stiff. The blanket came as a surprise. It had fallen down her front as she sat straight. She looked at it questioningly until she realized she knew the blanket.

"Ugh, Mary Margret." She sighed and then stretched her arms. When she took stock of her surroundings Emma began to notice that her chair was no longer blocking Hook's door. She had been swept to the side some time during the night. Irritated, she stormed into the room. Then she halted in her place when she saw several people crowding Hook's bed, including a nurse who was taking his blood pressure.

Hook paused mid sentence when she entered, no doubt looking like hell. She ran a hand over her hair. "Emm-Miss Swan. So nice of you to join us."

Emma stepped forward and then frowned. "What the hell's going on here?"

Snow stepped forward, her eyes stern. "We were just marveling over his sudden…alertness." She raised her eyebrows suggestively and Emma so didn't want to deal with feeble attempts at discretion. David walked over to his wife and put his arm around her shoulder fixing Emma with a similar, if less accusing, look. So, she had obviously mentioned the whole enchanted sleep thing to him. Which should have been obvious. They told each other everything. Like twelve year olds at a sleep over.

Emma gave them a look that told them just what sort of mood she was in and they seemed to take the hint. The nurse took that moment to unstrap the blood pressure…she didn't actually know what they were called, but they squeezed like hell. The nurse left his bedside and walked over to them, looking at the sheriff.

"We've patched all the cuts and scrapes." She said. "And we've done some extra tests…because of the unconsciousness, but everything checks out. He's good to," She nodded at Emma. "To leave."

"Leave?"

The nurse looked tentative. "Well, I only meant that…if it was your intent to…arrest him then, he would be cleared from our care." She scurried away after that and Emma's shoulder's fell. She glanced up at her parents, now alone in the room with them…and Hook.

Emma kept her eyes downcast.

Snow sighed. "We'll talk about this later."

"Could we? Thanks." Emma moved past them and stood next to Hook's bed. He was fully dressed now and it looked…silly for him to be sitting on a modern hospital bed in full Fairy-Tale wardrobe.

Hook glanced up at her once her parents took their leave. "You don't look amused. Why do I feel that doesn't bode well for me?"

Emma's arms were crossed loosely. "Look, I've got to ask you a few questions."

"Certainly. How's this evening work for you?" He gave her a roguish smirk. "I'll be free all night, as a matter of fact."

"Will you knock it off for two seconds? I'm serious here. Unless you answer my questions, _and_ I'm satisfied with your answers, you're going to be arrested."

"Oo. Arrested? On what charges?" His eyes darkened and Emma got the feeling that most of his good humor thus far had been forced.

Emma paused. "Gold claims you shot someone."

Hook stood up, limbs still sore. "Might have. What of it? Is that a crime in his land?"

"Yes. Yes it is very much a crime." She huffed. "You can't just go around shooting people and…what are you looking for?"

He lifted his head from his search and waved his left arm. "My left hand, so to speak. What've they done with it?" He looked at her. "Or you? What have you done with it?"

"It's a weapon Hook. I couldn't just let you keep it—"

"That's my property, Swan." He barked coolly. Then he closed his eyes and tried again. "You cannot just rob people of their limbs. Or is the theft of a person's appendages another accepted practice in this land where, apparently, it is cause for the law to enforce personal disputes in which no one has died?"

"No, we don't go around stealing limbs, but—"

"Then I'll have my hook back, if you'd be so kind." He wasn't smiling and he extended his good hand toward her.

Emma scoffed. "No, I'm not giving it back. Not until you—"

"Emma, this is really growing tiresome. I'm not in the mood to banter with you at the moment. If you won't give me my property then I shall have find it on my own."

"If you let me get a damn word out, then maybe we can talk about getting your things back to you." She snapped. "Seriously, you but in one more time and I will cuff you to your bed."

He raised an eyebrow. "Cuffing me to a bed?"

"Just stop. Now. Okay?"

He sat down, arms crossed indignantly. There was a brief pause and then he was rolling his eyes. "Go on then. Ask me your questions. I don't have all day."

Emma was already flustered, but she breathed out to keep calm. "What happened last night?"

Hook eyed her and she saw him debating on how much he should tell her. Then she saw that he was settling for the truth. It was easy to read it in his eyes. "After I was, rather brutally, harassed by that Crocodile—"

"Gold."

"Now who is the one interrupting?"

"Sorry. It just gets confusing. Everyone has like a million names in this damn town. It's easier to just say Gold." He pursued his lips stubbornly. Emma groaned. "I am very sorry. Will you please continue, please?"

This appeased him and he continued. "After _Gold_ left me I realized that my attempt at revenge had failed. I was quite put out, you can imagine. There had been a bit of...well I managed to ease my way toward one of the many stores of liquor on my ship. It was half way through the bottle that I realized I wasn't yet beaten."

"Wait, what the hell do you mean ship?"

"Do keep up, love. My ship has been tied to your dock for weeks now. At least several Sundays. As for my revelation, it was growing late and I was injured. So I headed for the place I knew the Croc-Gold would be heading. I had meant to use that woman's weapon to kill him where he stood. To end him right there and let that be enough, though much too easy a death. That is when I witnessed such…tender goodbyes. A much more promising option lay before me and I knew no one was to cross the town's limits. So I took my aim and I waited. When the opportunity arose, I took my shot. It hit true. The woman would not be seriously injured, but it had pushed her over that fated line and with it her memories of Gold."

Emma remained silent and she watched his smile grow as he relayed the tale to her. It was almost scary.

"And it was a kindness, Emma." He looked up at her, standing. "I have released her from a fate intertwined with a monster. So. If that is all you wish to know, I don't see what I have done wrong."

Emma shook her head, pitying him. Which was worse than anything. "It wasn't your place to decide what her best interests were. And you certainly can't do it by shooting the girl. She needed to have that bullet surgically removed."

"Does she live?"

"Well, yes, but that's not the—"

"Will she make a full recovery?"

"What-that's-I don't know, I didn't ask…I assume so, but—"

He stepped toward her, face angled so that he was looking down into her eyes. "Then I am free to go?"

Emma swallowed. "Not exactly."

She felt his breath on her lips as he clenched his teeth. "I have told you everything." He argued.

"Yeah…you did." She had already worked the cuff around his good hand. He didn't move, but she could tell that he knew exactly what she was doing. "I'm sorry. But I've got to take you in."

His nose brushed hers gently. "You have to do nothing. It is in your power to let me go."

Her eyes began to flutter closed. "But it's my job."

"Emma…" He breathed her name and even lifted his cuffed hand to her face, fingers light on her cheek.

In a turn, she was out of reach and had cuffed his other wrist tight enough to hold it there without slipping off. "Again. I'm sorry."

His look was dark and dangerous. "Oh, you will be. I assure you."

* * *

**A/N: Gasp! Hook, why are you so angsty? I don't know, but I think that his form of payback might be more Emma flirting. We'll see. ;)**


	5. Do Not Kiss

**A/N: This is a heated chapter. I had a plan and then it started coming together and this is what happened. Hope everyone likes it. I'm totally going to be late for work because I had to finish editing and then get it posted. Enjoy! ^_^  
**

**Part Five  
Do Not Kiss**

Killian supposed it gave Emma some crude sense of control. Dragging him around as if he were her possession. It was only when he realized that his own possessions would more than likely be stored in the place she intended to imprison him that he allowed her to take him. Intend being the operative word. If things went as_ he_ intended, he'd be free by dinner.

She brought him into the station and sat him down in front of a desk. She hooked her keys to her belt and gathered up some papers. "Press your fingers here." She ordered, motioning toward a black pad that, if he was smelling it correctly, was ink.

"You are asking me to smear my fingers in ink?" He clarified.

Emma looked up. "Yeah. That's what I'm asking."

"For what purpose?" He nearly laughed. What the hell would be the point in her staining his finger tips? The only thing he could think of would be to see where ones hand had traveled over bare skin. A strange fetish, but he could see the merit in it.

Emma didn't answer him but grabbed his good hand and began to rub his fingers in the ink. Then, also without warning, she brought his hand down on some paper and began to smear each individual finger into marked boxes. When he pulled his hand away he stared at the prints. "Oh, I see. You mean to collect my finger prints." The idea of fingerprinting wasn't lost on him, but he had never seen it done before nor had he ever really considered how it worked.

"Exactly." She said, still tense and distant. She was being quite cold, actually. He intended to remedy that if his plan was to work.

He watched her writing and then bringing his fingerprints toward a machine. He leaned back in his chair. "So this is where you work, is it?"

"Uhuh." She hit some buttons in front of her.

He nodded. "And, you are in charge of this whole…station?"

"Y-ep."

He nodded again. "Quite talkative, aren't you?"

"Uhuh."

"Oh, I see. You're not even listening to me." He smiled. "Is this some sort of woman's protest? I still don't see what I have done wrong." She glanced up at him briefly, that stony face sympathetic for half a second before she was on the move again. Killian sighed. "If you're going to ignore me then I'll just have to entertain myself."

"Go right ahead." She mumbled, reading something.

"Very well." He stretched out his arms and then stared at her. When she bent down to reach in her desk he very pointedly attempted to see down her shirt. "My, it's a good thing that Emma can't hear me or she'd be very quick to lecture me about my noticing the…black? Bra she is wearing."

Emma threw her hands over her chest. "You didn't."

Killian shrugged. "I might have."

Emma glanced down and she knew her shirt wasn't…it wasn't nearly low cut enough for him to notice something like that. She narrowed her eyes. "You're lying."

"No, I'm guessing. And judging from that lovely shade of pink on your cheeks I've guessed right." He winked. "Black. Good choice. One of my favorite colors. If that wasn't apparent. Or…is that why you chose it, I wonder?"

Emma huffed. "Knock it off."

"So, not only am I expected to be arrested against my will, with no clear reason, robbed of my things, but also to endure it all in a complacent silence?"

"That's about the gist of it." Emma walked toward him.

"Then you really don't know me at all, love." He laughed lightly. Then she hauled him up by the shoulder. "Where are we going now?"

"Just say cheese." She said, backing him to a patch of wall that was lined and numbered. He looked behind him and then forward.

"What?"

Emma huffed. "Just look right here." She pointed at some contraption and the next thing he knew he was blind.

Or momentarily blind. Some spark of light had just left stars over his vision and he blinked away the confusion. "What the bloody hell was that?"

"A picture." She clarified briskly. "Now get your hands-hand off your eyes and turn to your right."

Killian removed his hand, but still squinted. "That is how you obtain my picture? Emma, if you want to look at me, I'm all too happy to oblige—"

"It's for my records. You're under arrest, remember?" She sighed. "Turn to the right."

Turning as ordered, he tried to stop blinking, but then the flash came again and he slapped his hand over his face. "Damn it, woman, am I not even permitted to retain my vision?"

"You're fine. Stop whining." She strode forward and grabbed him again.

"Easy, darling, I _was_ just released from your infirmary." She may have been agitated about something, but her grip instantly slackened.

"Sorry." She mumbled.

"Oh, it's quite all right. I'm not one to chastise enthusiasm. Maybe if your aggression was directed more…productively."

Emma pursued her lips and he knew he was starting to win. She would fight back any second now, he was sure.

She stopped near her desk and gathered up a stack of papers and then a pen. Walking back to him, he noticed just a bit more flare in those lovely eyes. "Sign." She held out the pen.

Killian looked at the paper. "And if I refuse?"

"Then you get thrown in jail anyway. Sign it."

He reached for the pen, but not without running his fingers over her wrist and covering her hand before sliding the pen from her grasp. He kept his eyes lock with hers as he scribbled over the line indicated. "See. I can be obliging."

"Bravo for you." She stated. "This way."

And then he saw the cage. She meant to lock him up and that was not part of his plan. She opened the door and motioned for him to enter. He held out his wrists first. "I assume these would be unnecessary if I'm to be caged?"

Emma nodded. "Fair enough." She stepped forward and freed his arms, only to be captured by them. His hold wasn't tight or it might have caused her to struggle. He only loosely embraced her and he was gaze down at her intently.

"Let go." She ordered.

"I shall, but first I want to ask you something."

She struggled a bit and when he felt her reaching for her gun, he caught her hand. "Ah, ah. Please. I am humbly asking you to hear me out. Then I will get into your cage without a fuss."

Emma hung her head and then glared. "What is it?"

"We are alone, yes?"

She seemed puzzled. "Yeah. I guess so."

"Then I'm free to address our current…relationship?"

Emma closed her eyes. "Please, not that."

"Oh, but I must. You do not get sole control over a destiny that includes both of us. Now. My question to you is," She glanced up hesitantly. "Can you not kiss me?"

Emma blinked. "What?"

He stepped a bit closer, gaining ground on her, advancing. "Is it possible for you, Emma Swan, _not_ to kiss me?"

She didn't answer right away, but she seemed to find the question ridiculous. "Of course I can. It's not that hard _not_ to kiss someone…"

"Is it?" He continued his advance and his Swan was left ungraded. He had her back to the bars of the very cage meant for him.

Emma's breathing had become more labored, her eyes dilated, her body more receptive. "Say what you will about your feelings for me, Emma, but your body says something completely different."

"So?" Her voice was meant to sound fierce, but it was hushed and low. "It's called self control."

"And how much self control does Emma Swan possess? I'm curious." His good hand was moving up her back, gently, slowly, he didn't want to startle her into running. Again, he brought their faces together, and leaned in like he might kiss her before moving past her lips and talking into her skin. "So. Whatever you do." His hand was ghosting up the back of her neck, fingers reaching up into her hair. And always slowly. Always wary of her breath, her posture, the beat of her pulse as his lips drew near her neck. "Whatever you do, Emma, you must not kiss me."

He could feel her swallow and knew he was rattling her nerves. She was caving, piece by piece. "I don't want…" He could tell her eyes had closed when her head fell back against the bars. She was arching into him. And despite any protest she might have had, she was going to kiss him. He was certain.

So while he drew his leg between her thighs, he used his hookless arm to reach for the cell door. And when his face drew up to hers and she had opened her eyes to him and he, as slowly as he had opened her, began to close the door. Her eyes went from his own unwavering stare to his mouth and now he was seconds from winning.

"You're better off, love. Kissing me would be a bad idea." He kept his voice quiet, but loud enough to disguise the movement of the door beside them. He hoped to stir that rebellious side he had seen in so many glimpses. "The wrong thing to do, no doubt." He whispered now, drawing closer but never reaching her. "The last thing you'll want to do, right at this moment, is kiss me."

He waited. He was in place, but she wasn't moving. She was fighting it. She was fighting it with everything she had. And he was stuck. If she realized what he was trying to do she'd murder him. But she wasn't aware. She was only aware of how much she did not want to kiss him…

Emma reacted almost too fast for him. She was leaping forward and he only just managed to guide her back, swing the cell door into place, and fit an arm through the bars to draw her mouth to him.

At first, he could have classified that kiss as easily the best in memory. He was conscious this time and even through prison bars he had full access to her mouth. Which he attempted to exploit, all thoughts to plans and escaping momentarily second to the pleasure of the moment. But then Emma's eyes were wide and open and very _very_ pissed. He opened his own eyes to see her slowly taking in what had happened, that she was now the one trapped. He pulled away, to a safe distance as her labored breathing formed into a huff of wrath.

Before she even spoke she reached for the keys on her belt, but he held up a finger and let them swing side to side.

"You…" She seemed too angry for words.

"Do not blame yourself." He said, seeing the defeat in her eyes that he had been able to pull so much over her. He lowered his gaze and said seriously, "When I mean to capture the attention of a woman, Miss Swan, I mean to capture it fully." He meant this to ease her anger, but it had the opposite effect. She charged the bars and reached for him, but he was too far away.

"You had better pray for mercy when I catch you again." Her voice was low and deadly and terrifying. "I will get out of here, there's no doubt about that. And when I do?" She leveled him with her stare and he actually backed away a pace. "When I do Cora is going to seem like the most gentle person in the world."

Killian cleared his throat. "Yes. Well. Your threats are all well and good, but it still stands that you are in there and I am free." The flash of anger made him hold up his hand. "Hang on, I don't plan on staying. You won't have to concern yourself with arresting me. I don't plan on staying in Storybrooke. So…no harm done."

"No harm? I swear, if you try to run I will hunt you down and show you just how much I _don't_ want to hurt you." She fumed.

"Steady. You'll be less angry once you've had a chance to cool down." He smiled. "True love, remember? It's not in you to kill me."

"Oh I never said kill. No. Hurting you would be just as satisfying. And don't you dare try to spin that true love bull shit. To think that I actually wanted to give you a chance."

He looked hurt and his mouth fell into a straight line. He had not considered betraying her trust. Somehow, that only made it all the harder to walk away. Whatever was meant by their being connected, he knew that he couldn't claim he didn't care that he hurt her. Swallowing a bit of his pride he moved forward.

"It would not be wise for you to come near me right now." She hissed.

He held out a hand defensively. Then he stopped to consider his options. If he left, he would be spared her wrath and possibly find a way to leave before her coming after her him, and then spending his life roaming this world he knew nothing about. Or. Or he could let himself cave to that hurt in her eyes. The hurt under all the fury. But he did not know which was the better choice. Did he want Emma? To give this true love thing a chance? A chance to actually…maybe find that he could be happy? Or did he leave now? Destroy any bond they might have had. Turn his back on the woman who had needed to learn to trust the most? The woman, quite possibly, just as broken as he was?

Time ticked by.

Tick.

Tock.

And he chose.


	6. Similar

**A/N: Sorry for the delay. Tried to clean my house yesterday...literally did nothing else and still didn't finish. Anyway, this is the next part and I hope you like it. Thank you to everyone who has reviewed! I haven't been able to respond to everyone, but I still appreciate the feedback. Thank you for reading! Enjoy. ^_^  
**

**Part Six  
Similar**

What bothered her most was that she actually felt betrayed. It wasn't his actions but that she hadn't expected it of him. Like an idiot. Emma's fingers were straining on the bars of her cell, knuckles white. Why the hell was he still standing there? He hadn't moved or spoken for several minutes. She didn't know what he was waiting for. More gloating? Smear her face in her failure? Her weakness? To be honest, she didn't feel much different from when she heard that cop asking her for her watch…

With each minute he waited. Stood there not looking at her, thinking if she was guessing right. That's when she remembered.

Emma drew her gun and aimed, making sure to keep it behind the bars so there would be no attempt to knock it from her. Hook didn't even notice. Or, at least, he didn't sense the danger. Because instead of making a hasty exit, he started walking toward the cell his eyes lowered and still not noticing her. His free hand played with the keys and it appeared like he was planning on handing them to her. But then he looked up. Their eyes met. And he held up his arms in surrender.

She could see him remembering the gun. That he had forgotten to steal it as well when he went for her keys. "Forget I was armed? That'll be your last mistake."

They were both frozen. Her with the gun and Hook with his arms raised. Finally, he smiled, trying to make light of the situation. "You can put that away. I was just about to let you out."

"Why the hell should I believe that?" She countered.

He watched her evenly, expecting a fight from her. "Does it matter? You know I'm telling the truth, yes?" He had edged a little closer but then halted when she tensed her hold on the gun. He let out a small breath. "Fine." Bending slowly and watching her gun, he set the keys on the floor. "I am going to slide the keys to you." Emma was still tense. Even as he kicked the keys toward her with his boot. They slid to rest just in front of the bars and she hesitated. Hook kept his arms up.

He even had the nerve to smile. "Could you please put that away now? Those eyes and that weapon…you're making me quite nervous."

"Yeah?" She said evenly. "Good."

"Come now, Emma. You're not going to shoot me."

"Won't I? I suppose we'll both find out cause even I'm not so sure." Her hand shook. He had surrendered. The keys were resting just in front of her. And as much as it pissed her off, he had been honest when he said he was returning the keys before the gun had been drawn. Not that it mattered but…it mattered that she couldn't shoot him now. Shooting him would be revenge. It would be wrong for someone meant to uphold the law in this backwards town. But she really _really_ wanted to shoot him.

In the end, he had been right in assuming she wouldn't shoot. Not anymore. Maybe if he had tried to leave, but not now. Gun still aimed, just to be safe, she bent without looking and felt for the key through the bars. Then she unlocked the cell and when she was free met him in two steps and swung her pistol hand straight across his face.

Hook fell sideways, crashing over a few chairs and toppling to the ground. His hand nursed his cheek as he tried to stand. There was blood between his fingers and the wound on his forehead had reopened, but that only made her feel better about the situation. She hoped it hurt like hell, too.

Getting to his feet he wiped at his mouth with the back of his hand, tasting blood as well as feeling it. "I deserved that." He acknowledged, albeit, begrudgingly. He wasn't smiling, but she could tell that he was trying not to respond to be assaulted. Whether he deserved it or not. Whatever. He might have been trying to do the right thing now, but it was too late. Even if he hadn't gone through with it. He…he shouldn't have even tried.

_Cause it is not the same thing as you leaving him in the giant's lair. _Emma winced at the thought. It was _so_ not the same thing. She had done that because she had no choice. She was scared of what could possibly happen if she had learned to like or even trust him. She couldn't afford another Neal. Her reasons were the in the right. So her tricking his trust in her by cuffing him to be left behind had been…

Whatever. She hadn't enjoyed it like he seemed to and she hadn't tried to get a kiss out of the deal either…so…so he was totally in the wrong.

Emma shook away her internal struggle and reached for his collar. He hadn't even fully recovered from being pistol whipped and she was throwing him toward the cell. When he faltered at the door, not quite falling inside, and looked like he might try and talk his way out of it she kicked at his knees and he fell forward again. She swung the door shut and relished the gentle click of the lock.

Hook dragged himself to the cot and leaned his arms across it, breathing staggered. "Are you quite satisfied?" He snapped over his shoulder. "If I didn't have any broken bones, I bloody do now." He turned and she was still fuming, nose flaring. Probably not his most prosperous idea. His entire plan had backfired on him. He wouldn't be getting either desired outcome. The freedom he had meant to gain or the girl he had given up freedom for. It made him laugh. This was more his style. This was familiar ground. Pain and emptiness were much more familiar than the hope that had flared for a foolish instant when he had decided not to leave her.

"What's so funny?" She snapped.

He pushed himself into the cot and fell backward against the wall with a satisfied sigh. "Oh, it's nothing. I suppose it's not even funny, but sad really. Still. I find myself laughing." She stubbornly refused to engage this conversation, but he indulged any way. "You see, I had thought getting away from you was my one chance at freedom. That I'd be able to get on my ship and sail away from here without a thought. It would have made your life simpler, I figured. Not having to deal with your obviously conflicted feelings for me. Leaving would have suited everyone for the best. But when the time came…I couldn't."

She looked at her feet, eyes refusing to look at him. "Why?"

"Why couldn't I go through with it?" He raised an eyebrow. "Can you not guess?"

"Don't." She said sternly. "Don't start that again."

"Deny it all you want, but I've lived around magic most of my life. I understand it more than you do." He gave her a flirtatious smile. "I understand the power that it can have and I wouldn't be so quick to dismiss a sign that so clearly means you and I—"

"Don't you get it?" Emma snapped, stepping forward, but not near enough for him to reach her through the bars. "I don't give a shit about your magic." She sounded tired, her anger still present, but draining her. "Honestly. Do you really think this is the type of thing that…_love_ does to people? I may not hold much stock in the sentiment, but I know what it is when it's real. I've seen enough of it around me…" She paused and let out a breath before continuing. "I've seen enough to know that people meant to be with each other don't act like we do. We're messed up. Both of us."

He shifted, intrigued. "That is a valid point. Perhaps that is just it, though. We are broken, Miss Swan, I do not argue you on that. If I am being honest, I don't think either of us is fit for the work and mental state of love. Me especially." When she looked ready to agree he pressed on. "You are broken. And I am broken. So who better to understand you than me, eh? Who would understand exactly why you find it so hard to trust another person?" He sat up. "We are similar, Emma Swan. Whether you like it or not. Did you ever consider I might be a positive influence on your life?"

"Not in a million years. And I'm damn sure you've never thought it about me." She countered.

"True. I have never considered that any one might have a positive effect on me. That's just not how I work. But you keep proving my point." He grinned. "We are similar."

"I'm nothing like—"

He stood up, hands reaching for the bars as he interrupted. "Think on that, before you disagree. Really think about it Emma. I may not always do the right thing, but then, neither do you." He smiled, pointing to her face at the sudden apprehension in her eyes. "Ah, see. I have guessed correct again. You really need to work harder if you want to keep yourself hidden from me."

Emma stared at him, almost fearful that he was right. That he could see much more than she intended. The whole thing was just getting scary and she didn't even look back when she turned on her heel and left.

"Wait, Emma—"

The door closed and she couldn't hear him. She didn't want to hear any more. Not from him. Her feet carried her blindly down the street and found her at home. Without a word, she stalked toward the kitchen and grabbed the warm pot of coffee and began to pour.

"Emma?"

Emma jumped at the sound of her name and coffee fell over her fingers. She set the mug down and then ran her hand under the sink. "Sorry, I didn't think anyone would be home."

Snow nodded. "Everything okay?"

"Yep. Fine." Emma dried off her hands and finished dressing her coffee before taking a sip.

Snow shrugged. "It's just…you're a little more jumpy than usual."

"Am I? Well, I didn't get much sleep last night and—" Emma shut her eyes, knowing that to mention that was a mistake.

"Oh? What…what happened last night that might have kept you awake?" Snow tried to seem uninterested. She picked at a napkin idly.

Emma fell back against the counter. "Just stop with the act. I know you've probably guessed already."

Snow looked up, almost wanting to feign ignorance, but she dropped the charade. "I can guess, yes, but I can't understand." She stepped toward her daughter and then halted. "You kissed him didn't you? It was you that woke him?"

Emma glanced sideways at her mother over the rim of her cup and then proceeded to take a sip.

"Oh Emma." Snow closed her eyes and shook her head. "I knew…why? Why did you do it?"

"What'd you mean, why?" Emma countered, moving the mug from her mouth. "I don't have any idea. It just…happened." It was weird…if the topic of conversation wasn't enough it was that she was having it with her best friend who had recently turned out to be her mother. So. There was that.

"But…what possessed you to kiss him? You had to know what that would mean?" Snow's jaw fell open. "Oh. Oh, of course."

"What?" Emma pressed.

"You woke him. So…regardless of why it was meant to be. I had my suspicions…"

"Wait, suspicions? What suspicions?"

Snow huffed. "Emma, please. I'm not blind. I've been your age…well, I am your age, but that's not the point. I've been where you are. I've know what attraction is like and I saw the two of you together and—"

"Please stop. This is getting too weird." Emma walked toward the table to sit down. She needed to sit.

"Fine." Snow sat next to her. "So. What now?"

"What'd you mean?"

"I mean, what are you going to do about it now?"

"Uh, if everything goes to plan, absolutely nothing." Emma said evenly.

Snow blinked. "You can't just ignore it. Emma, this is your _true love_. I may not like him, but then it's my prerogative as a mother, but that doesn't mean you can just let this go. You can't walk away even if you wanted to. To let this go…it would mean that you're giving up on the potential for happiness and you might never find that again." Snow was in fairy-tale mode. She was using that voice she used, the one when she was especially filled with emotions and knew that she was saying something significant that might help.

"No offense, but I don't even think I believe in all this true love nonsense anyway. Besides, my focus right now is Henry. Henry is what makes me happy and that's fine for now. I don't need a guy, Mary Margret. It's the twenty-first century."

Snow shook her head. "And when Henry grows up?"

"What about it?" Emma took another sip of coffee.

"Emma, he's not just going to stick around you his entire life. He'll grow up. He'll want to be on his own. He might get married himself someday—"

"Whoa. Whoa. The kid's eleven."

Her mother smiled. "You don't want to reach that point, Emma, and find that you have nothing else in your life. I don't want that for you."

"Well." Emma looked at the table. "I appreciate the concern, but I think I've got this handled. Besides, there's no one saying I can't be happy alone. I mean, I'll still have you guys and I have friends. I don't need to get mixed up in the Pandora's box of what would be a relationship with Hook." She sipped her drink.

"Well, for your sake, I truly hope that is the case."

"It is."

Snow sighed. "Okay, Emma. If you ever want to talk about this, I'm here. Okay?" She kissed Emma's forehead and she stood and the gesture shouldn't have seemed weird, but it caught Emma off guard. It was such a…such a motherly thing to do and she had only recently begun to understand what it was like to have one. It was nice, regardless. She didn't complain. She only sipped at her drink and then thought about heading into bed despite the fact that it was the middle of the day. If there was anything she believed in right then, it was that sleep would make it better.


	7. Bag of Bail

**A/N: This is probably going to be my last chapter before the episode tonight. Trying to keep things moving along while being at least somewhat believable. Anyway, hope people like the chapter and thank you to everyone who comments! Enjoy!  
**

**Part Seven  
Bag of Bail**

Killian watched Emma turn her back on him and he knew she was fleeing. "Wait, Emma—" The door shut in his face. Or it would if he had not been trapped behind these blasted bars. He cursed under his breath and let his arms fall to his side. He had obviously made the better choice, picking her. She seemed _so_ grateful for it, after all. So appreciative at the difficulty in making such a decision. So understanding that it had been a rash and, in hindsight, foolish decision not to get out while he could.

He huffed and then stood there, arms crossed. This was a fine mess to be in. Things had been so simple for him before that blasted vixen had decided to kiss him. Which he had still neglected to mention. _She_ had kissed _him_. He had not asked her to and from what he could tell, she had been completely alone when the fancy struck her. Not that she could be blamed. He'd seen women succumb to their desires much faster than her and to Emma's credit she had waited until he was unconscious.

The idea made him smile. If only he could have been awake to see that. To watch Emma, as she no doubt did, wrestle with the idea of kissing him and all that would imply if he were to wake. Such an ill conceived move on her part, but she had brought this all on herself. So now he was quite determined to make her suffer for it. What else was he to do? Now that he'd chosen, he would see it through. It's not as if he didn't have the free time on his hand.

But then time caught up with him in that cell and he noted the sun setting as the shadows on her desk grew. How long was he expected to wait here? And did no one else work in this office because surely he should have been brought a meal? Or at least a drink. Emma may be angry with him, but she was not cruel. She wouldn't let him starve…he paused and considered that she might actually do just that. So he fell asleep: tired, sore, and incredibly hungry.

Killian woke when he heard the door to the station opening. He stirred from his fitful sleep and found that the cot was extremely uncomfortable, even without the injuries, and he sat up. It was Emma's face he was expecting, but instead his eyes fell on the considerably shorter person that had entered. A boy, no older than eleven, had walked in with all the purpose of one who knows exactly where he is going. The boy did not notice Killian at first, so the pirate waited and observed.

If he had to guess, the boy was Emma's son. Which was just the ticket.

Killian cleared his throat and the boy, Henry if he remembered correctly, jumped backward.

"My apologies. I didn't mean to startle you." Killian offered kindly.

Henry blinked and then tilted his head. "You're Hook, aren't you? Captain Hook?"

"Aye." Killian acknowledged.

"Yeah, I've heard my mom mention you once or twice…"

"Your mother has mentioned me?" Killian doubted that it was to praise him, but still, even to speak about him with loathing was to speak of him at all. Which meant that she thought about him when they weren't together. Which meant she was more interested than he had first realized.

"Yeah…but it's never really anything nice. She doesn't seem to like you very much."

Killian chuckled. "Not as much as she thinks." When the boy frowned, no doubt confused, Killian changed the subject. "It's Henry, isn't it?"

Henry nodded.

"Your mother has spoken of you, as well. You're very important to her."

"Oh…yeah, I know that." Henry said, growing comfortable enough to move a little closer. Killian had no ill intentions for the boy, but he was glad to be gaining trust from him so quickly. "So, why're you locked up in here? Does it have to do with last night?"

"No one has told you, I imagine?" Killian raised an eyebrow.

"Nah, adults like to think I can't handle it." Henry shrugged. "I'm used to it. But really. Why're you locked up?"

"Oh, well, that is really a touchy subject. _ I_ think I've been wrongfully imprisoned, but your mother won't hear a word otherwise."

Henry nodded. "She can be stubborn. But you know, she can't do anything to you until you've had a trail. And if didn't do anything, I doubt they'll be able to send you to jail."

Killian frowned. "I see." He had thought he was already in jail. Henry implied that there might exist a prison more final than the one he was in. Which made him anxious.

"No, I mean, there's this whole thing that has to happen. Like court and judges and juries and stuff. We're kinda learning about it in school." Henry nodded and continued with gained enthusiasm. "Oh…and, technically, you don't even have to be here while you're waiting."

Killian kneeled down. "You have my full attention, Henry."

"Well, you're supposed to be innocent until you are proven guilty. In court I mean. What you need is bail."

"Bail." Killian repeated.

"Yeah. You pay bail and my mom would _have_ to let you go until your trial. That's how the law works."

He grinned. "And, as the enforcer of law in this town, your mother would be obliged to release me despite any personal feelings?"

"Exactly." Henry agreed. "Of course, you're not allowed to leave town. Paying the bail is like a…trust thing. You pay so they'll let you go home, but you can't like…run away or anything."

"You're very enlightening, Henry. These 'adults' are underestimating you, in my humble opinion. You're more perceptive than those twice your age."

"Really? You think so?"

"Oh, definitely. You have told me exactly what I wanted to know and I hadn't even asked. Never take your strengths for granted. Age has nothing to do with it."

"Yeah." Henry agreed eagerly and Killian nodded.

He almost felt guilty. Henry seemed too eager to accept praise and Killian considered if he was taking advantage. But he had not said anything he didn't actually believe to be true. Henry had managed to explain the exact details of what he needed without any influence. "Now, do you think you could do me a little favor?"

* * *

When he heard the door again, Killian now expected to see Emma. She had changed her clothes and obviously showered, but if he wasn't mistaken, her hair was styled. He rose when she entered and she sought to ignore him, head bent over a paper in her hand as she threw a bag on her desk. When the action resulted in a jingling sound she stopped and looked up.

Emma looked at her desk and then stepped forward. There was a canvas bag where she had just thrown her purse. "What's this?" She asked hesitantly.

Killian grinned and leaned into the bars. "That is my bail money, Miss Swan."

"Bail money?" She looked up quickly and then smiled. "What do you mean 'bail money'?"

"Is it not the custom for me to buy my freedom while I await my trail?" He asked innocently. "That is my money. And that is me buying my freedom."

Emma shook her head and closed her eyes briefly. "Wait, wait, wait. What do you know about posting bail?"

His grin turned into a smirk. "Is that not accurate?"

"No, you're…you're right. But how did you come by this information locked up in there? Suddenly learn how to use a wifi?"

Killian frowned, "Wifi?"

"Never mind." She picked up the bag and opened it. Then she eyed him. "These are gold coins."

"Aye. Does gold not have value here?"

"No…it has value, but it's not what we use to pay for things." She said with a smile. Obviously, she found this amusing.

Killian waved the information off. "But you can turn that into the proper currency, yes? Exchange it for the accepted standard of payment?"

"I suppose I can, but…"

"Then I have paid your bail and you have to let me go."

Emma opened her mouth and closed it.

"It is the law, Miss Swan. As you so rigidly uphold."

"I beg your pardon, but I am not rigid." She huffed, indignant. She looked back at the small bag of gold. There was probably a good few thousand dollars worth inside. More than sufficient…

"The prove it." He coaxed. "Release me."

Emma shook her head. "You're just going to run. I can't let you—"

Killian stopped her with a dark look. "If had wanted to run I would have done so. I came back, Miss Swan. I believe this is proof enough of my good faith, but if you insist, then I give you my word I will not leave Storybrooke."

Emma looked doubtful, like this was the last thing she wanted to do. But Killian didn't care. He hated being caged.

"I…" Emma sighed.

"Come, Emma. The keys, if you please."

"Give me a second." Emma snapped. Killian shut his mouth wisely. She always had the option of being stubborn and denying him leave whether it was lawful or not. He didn't want to push her too far…not until he was free, at any rate. Wrestling with herself, Emma finally walked up to his cell and drew her keys. "I'm going to regret this. One way or the other, I'm going to regret this."

Killian smiled down at her as she went about unlocking the cell. "Have faith, love. There is every chance that you won't." He winked and she sighed.

"Oh yeah. This is gonna bite me in the ass." She swung the door open and he sauntered out.

"Unfortunately, you don't have a choice." He said stretching and then waiting. Emma pushed past him and he continued to stand in front of her desk.

"What now?" She groaned.

"My effects, Emma." He held up his left arm. Emma groaned. Then she went to a back room, unlocked it, and came back with a box. On top was his hook and he immediately secured it in place, feeling much better with the familiar weight. "If I can indulge on your…_good_ will further, I'm afraid most of my time in this town has consisted of spying on Rumple-Gold and I am very much in need of food?"

Emma glared at him. "Granny's. It's the best-well, only, place in town."

"That will do. Where can I find this Granny's?" He leaned over her desk, pressing his face close to hers. "Unless you'd like to show me? I wouldn't mind a friendly voice to help me understand the no doubt strange cuisine of this land."

Emma rolled her eyes. "Yeah, you don't need me. Ruby's plenty good at explaining things." Then Emma paused.

"Ruby?" He spoke the name slowly and deliberately. "Sounds like a delightful person." Killian said, reading Emma's eyes correctly. She immediately got up and grabbed her keys.

"You know what, I haven't eaten yet either. I'll go."

Killian grinned behind her. This Ruby was no doubt viewed by Emma to be a potential rival. It made him wonderfully curious to see what she might look like. Not that he was here to make eyes at whatever pretty face crossed his path. His purpose was to get Emma and he didn't think she would appreciate him filling his time with other women while he waited. Besides, the idea was surprisingly unappealing.

"After you." He said, motioning to the door and waving Emma through as he held it for her.

"Good God." Emma sighed and she headed out at a brisk pace.

Killain sighed and shook his head. If Emma realized how he perceived her contempt, she might be a little nicer. As it was, her annoyance with him was such that he got the impression she was seconds from jumping him in the street before they even arrived at the diner.

* * *

**A/N: Okay, so I know it was a bit...lame that Henry was learning about that exact subject in school at just this time and happened to walk into Emma's work just then, but...I don't know. I am trying to move it along and I couldn't have him locked up forever, what fun is that? Besides, for my future...ahem, intimate scene, that I have planned, I need him to be not in jail. So this is what I came up with. I think it's not completely unbelievable, although it might be a bit cheesy. Plus, it allows Hook and Henry to interact, which I had wanted to do a bit of. Hope everyone liked it anyway. My tone for this story is meant to be light and somewhat humorous. So that is why I'm not touching on all the obvious drama nearly as heavily as I could have. I want to have fun writing it and people to have fun reading it. Thank you to everyone who commented and thank you for reading. More soon. ^_^**


	8. Burned

**A/N: I am so sorry for the delay in updating. This chapter...oh my gosh, just wanted to end me. I swear. I nearly gave up like fifty times, but I didn't want to leave you guys hanging. See, I have all these awesome scenes and moments planned, but bridging them together is difficult. This is my attempt at a sort of 'bridge' chapter. So please bear with me on this.  
**

**Part Eight  
Burned**

Arriving at Granny's had been the easy part. The ride there had been interesting…once she had convinced Hook to get into the car in the first place. Then he had spent the better part of their seven minute drive clinging to his seat belt and bracing his arm on the center console. They had to stop when he had threatened to throw up for a third time.

"Not in the car." Emma snapped, as she hit the brakes and received a groan. "Seriously, at least get your head outside the car before you lose it."

Hook's head was bobbing on his shoulders and when he tilted sideways his face was met with the window. "How do you get out?"

Emma sighed. "Pull the handle." She pointed but he wasn't looking.

"I beg of you to slow down." He whined.

"We're not moving." Emma sighed, her eyes finding the thirty-five mile an hour speed limit sign. "And I'm already going too slow." She had been driving no faster than twenty-five once he had started complaining.

He kept his cheek smushed against the window. "How do I get to the air?" His finger ran down the window and Emma gave a huff as she leaned across him and let the door fall open. Hook had fallen with it until his seat belt caught him and he gulped in air as if he'd just been drowning. "Please remind me, why couldn't we just walk?" His eyes had fallen closed as the relief of fresh air brought some color back to his face.

"This is faster." Emma watched him and bit her lip. "Look, I didn't figure someone who supposedly lives on a boat could get motion sickness."

Hook sat up and leaned against his seat. "Is this a boat? Water moves differently than land. I've held no love of carriages but this…" He sneered at the dashboard, as if it were the car's fault. "There is no sway of movement in this atrocity. Everything lurches and the stopping and the going and the turning…it's all too abrupt and violent." His hand rested on his chest, breathing still labored. "Thankfully, I've been starved for the past twenty-four hours."

"Please, you'll be fine." Emma laughed lightly and put her hands back on the steering wheel. As amusing as his turmoil was, she wasn't there to torture him. So she put the car back in drive and prepared to park. As soon as her foot was off the brake, Hook's arms flew out to brace himself.

"Why is it moving again?" He said quickly, a hint of panic.

Emma slammed on the brake, but they had barely started moving in the first place. "I can't just leave it in the middle of the road. If you want to walk, then I have to park."

"Must I be in it when that happens?" He attempted a laugh, but his eyes were scanning from her to the dashboard nervously.

Emma rolled her eyes, but she was smiling. "Whatever. Just get out. And stand on the curb so you don't get run over. Again."

"Very amusing." He said, but then he seemed satisfied that she wouldn't move until he was out of the car, so he released his hold on it and started fussing with the seat belt. He pulled and yanked, but only tightened its hold on him. Emma had to bite her lip again.

"It means to trap me here. Every time I move the blasted thing only constricts further." He huffed and was about to start tearing it to shreds, left arm poised to slash.

"Are you crazy?" Emma held up a hand to stop him. "You don't have to go breaking it. Just…let me do it." As she leaned, her foot eased off the brake and the car idled forward. Which made Hook frantic. Which made him scream. Which ended up sounding more like a girly shriek.

Emma couldn't hold it any longer. She placed the back of her hand over her mouth in an attempt to mask her smile, but the laughter bubbled through regardless. Hook pursed his lips when he released the car was no longer moving. He did not look amused.

"Oh yes, this is all very funny, I'm sure." He hissed. "Good form, Emma, finding humor in the suffering of others. Were you not supposed to be some sort of moral beacon in this town?"

"Oh come on." She snickered. "It's funny. You can't say you wouldn't be laughing if this was reversed."

He seemed indignant, shoulders stiff and back straight, but his eyes were wary and his arms were tensed to catch himself should the car suddenly move again. "Are you going to help me or am I going to free myself?" Emma gave him a warm smile as she leaned back over, careful not to move her feet, and unclipped the seat belt. Hook shook the belt from his arms and nearly fell in his attempt to be out of the car and on steady land. Emma snickered again and was received a hearty slam of the door in response.

She came around the front of the car, locking it behind her, and was still smiling.

And that had been the easy part of the day. At least the walk to Granny's had been enough fresh air to improve Hook's mood. As they entered a few patrons were already situated around the diner either eating or sipping at their coffee. Hook seemed to recognize a face and he gave a nod toward the man at the counter.

"Ah, the doctor with the deplorable beside manner. Whale was it?" He greeted, and Emma watched Dr. Whale sour instantly.

"It's a hospital. There are needles. And _you_ attacked _me_." Whale replied defensively.

"Next time, might we remember to announce our intentions before attempting to stab people with sharp objects?" Hook countered.

Whale looked to Emma quickly, reaching out for rationality. "I was _helping_ you."

"Then our definition of help differs greatly."

"So." Emma slid between them. "Why don't you find us a seat?" Emma motioned to the many open booths and Hook spared Whale one last glare before following her advice. Emma let out a breath and then offered Whale a reassuring smile. The doctor only stared fiercely at the counter before setting his hands on it firmly and rising from his seat. He looked ready to leave until Ruby entered with a tray and Emma watched him fall back onto his stool and reflect very deeply on the steam rising from his cup.

"Emma." Ruby finished serving her table and headed over, saving a small glance for Hook and then focusing back on her friend. "The usual?"

Emma nodded. "That'd be great, thanks."

Hook wasn't leering at Ruby, as much as Emma might have expected it. But he did fix a lopsided smile on his face as he spoke.

"Ruby, is it?"

She smirked, sending a look to Emma before jutting her hip and raising her pen and paper. "Hook, is it?"

His smile grew. "What gave it away?" Then he licked his lips and began to squint at the menu written above the counter. Finally, he settled back on Ruby. "I'm afraid none of those items make a lick of sense by way of sustenance. I'm sure you have a…respected grasp of the menu. What would you suggest?"

Ruby clicked her tongue and answered with a hint of attitude that did not go unnoticed by anyone. "The house special is pretty popular."

"Then I'll take two." He replied.

"Two?" Ruby raised an eyebrow and then started writing. "How would you like your eggs?"

"What are the options?"

Ruby narrowed her eyes. "You've eaten eggs before?"

"Yes, but that was another land." He stared, dead-pan. "And if what I've seen so far has taught me anything, it's that nothing here is quite the same as I understand. So. My options."

Emma blinked in her seat. Ruby, however, bit her tongue before continuing. "Scrambled. Sunny-side up. Over-easy."

Hook leaned forward in his seat, offering her a kind smile. "Whichever you think is best," Then the smile faded and his dark eyes narrowed. "Minus the sass, if you please, darling. It's been a trying day."

Emma's eyes were wide when he gave Ruby a sarcastic smile and sent her off with their order. She waited until the waitress was out of ear shot before pouncing. "What was that?"

"What?" He blinked, looking sincerely confused by the question.

"Never mind." She said, pressing her fingers to her forehead. Her brain kept telling her it didn't matter. Whatever his reaction to other women, it didn't concern her. Destiny might be telling her to act, to care, or even to try, but as Emma watched him…she knew that destiny was going to have to be wrong. Whatever she might be feeling, and she had felt something, even back when they had climbed that beanstalk she had felt something, but none of that mattered. It didn't matter because when she looked at him, she couldn't see Henry. They didn't belong in the same picture. Not to her. Not yet. And at the moment, it was enough to make her hesitant.

Ruby had brought out their food and he had been quite persistent in being polite to her. Probably bordering on over-kill, but Emma could see it wasn't really bothering her friend. Before she left she gave Emma a look that suggested she wanted lots of details later and Emma was not looking forward to that conversation. Emma only picked at her food. She had been hungry, but now she wasn't in the mood to eat. She mainly sipped at her coffee.

"Something troubling you?" Hook had just finished his first plate of food and had started on the next. Most of his meal had been at least familiar in title to him. Eggs, bread, potatoes. He had complained about the preparation of the meal initially, but that hadn't stopped him from scrapping his first plate clean. Condiments were still too much of stretch. He hadn't wanted to risk the idea of ketchup corrupting his food, so he had refused all but salt.

"No." Emma shook her head. "Actually…" One of the many things floating through her mind lately was something she hadn't wanted to say, but it needed to be said. Whatever his reaction, smug or otherwise, she had to do it. "Actually, there is something I wanna say."

He took a sip of his water, waiting expectantly. Emma opened her mouth and then closed it. Looking at him while she said it wasn't making it easier. He was smiling at her hesitation and it was distracting her.

Emma tucked a piece of hair behind her ear as she looked down at the table. "Basically, I wanted to tell you that I'm not mad."

"That's…good?" He didn't seem to understand and so she let out a breath, frustrated that she'd have to spell it out.

"When you…well, I had been pissed when you, well, tricked me." Her eyes glanced up only for a second and she saw she had his full attention and then she kept her eyes down. Coward. "I'm not gonna say it didn't hurt and this whole trust thing you'd been working so hard on getting? Yeah, that's probably going to be a long time coming now. Just saying." She shifted in her seat. "But basically, I don't blame you for doing it. I don't blame you and I'm not angry and I'm over it. It's done and you did come back, which is…which is more than I did."

He wasn't speaking. He _finally_ shuts up and it's the one time she wants him to interrupt. Damn it, he must've known it too. Bastard was enjoying this. She still refused to look him in the eye. Emma pressed on regardless. "And I'm sorry for that. For leaving. It wasn't…it wasn't the right choice. Whatever my problem was…it wasn't right to betray your trust like that. Okay? So. I'm sorry." Emma finished, feeling she'd said all she meant to and waited. Nothing. She narrowed her eyes and was able to look at him now. "Really? Nothing to say? No…snarky comment or…"

Hook didn't look smug to Emma. In fact, that grin was gone and he looked…serious. Emma suddenly felt awkward bringing it up. She wouldn't regret the decision, but she hadn't expected to put him in a bad mood. His good hand twirled the fork into what was left of his food. His eyes followed the fork, but he didn't seem to actually see what he was doing.

Okay, flirty, innuendos, pervy comments…she could handle all that. This whole not talking thing…somberly avoiding the conversation? That was something she didn't know what to do with. Emma was debating whether she should just change the subject, pretend it never happened, or let the silence go. Quiet Hook _was_ quiet Hook. Really didn't matter how it was achieved, just that he wasn't being annoying…or charming.

Emma shook off that last thought and decided she'd let the silence just continue. Nothing else she really wanted to talk about anyway…

"Quite the pair, aren't we?"

Emma almost didn't catch it. He had almost been too quiet. It was enough to restrain her from saying the first thing that had popped into her head. Meaning, that they weren't a pair. "Uh, yeah." She said simply.

He looked up from his food, the fork falling back onto his plate. There was a moment of waiting, where their eyes met and it wasn't flirty or mocking or irritating each other, but instead threatened to become understanding.

"Imagine my surprise. Walking down the street to find an attempted murderer…sitting all cozied up enjoying a nice lunch. Imagine, Miss Swan." Gold's eyes fell on her. "My surprise to find…he was even awake at all."

Whatever that moment had wanted to become it no longer mattered. Emma was standing just as Hook did, her hand on his shoulder just as a precaution, because the he looked ready to take a swing at Mr. Gold.

"Gold, I know you're upset, but I've got to—"

"Oh, no, Miss Swan. _You_," He pointed at her, "Are no longer involved. _You_ don't get to say anything."

"Agreed." Hook said and Emma's mouth fell open. "It's best if you don't get involved."

"What're you nuts?" Emma was about to push her way around the table, to get between them, but she wasn't fast enough. The next thing she knew, Hook was thrown through the window and Gold hadn't lifted a finger. Effing magic. It still made her second guess the situation.

"What the hell are you doing?" Emma screamed, but then she was flying backward into a hallway and Gold was leaving. Ruby's voice was the next thing Emma heard. Ruby was helping her to her feet and Emma shook out the shock to her limbs and assessed that she wasn't injured.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah, fine." Emma was moving out of Ruby's grasp and running for the door. As she cleared the doorway the first thing she saw was Hook on his feet. So she still had time to stop things from getting worse. Neither of them had noticed her, however. Gold had a ball of fire growing in his palm and Hook was crouched, ready to dodge the attack. So, maybe things had already gotten worse. Emma reached for her gun and had it aimed at Gold. As the attacker, he was the immediate threat.

"Drop the…fire." Emma ordered, circling into view.

Gold didn't even spare her a glance. "No, I don't think I'll be doing that."

Emma shook her head. "Gold, I'm only going to ask you one more time. If you don't stand down…" She let out a breath and steeled her nerves, "I _will_ shoot."

"Then shoot." He laughed. "Please, get it out your system now and be on your way. You may not be the target, but I'm not too concerned with the crossfire, if you get me." Then Emma could swear he giggled.

Fear rippled through her for an instant. She had dealt with Gold before and she thought she knew what he was capable of, but this wasn't the Gold she was used to dealing with. Not with that smile and the chipper sing-song in his voice. He still sounded like Gold, but one that had nothing to lose and therefore nothing to hold him back. Emma considered that even shooting him might not do anything. And as her panic ebbed she began to focus on other methods of neutralizing the situation. It was all adrenaline at that point.

Gold prepared to attack, throwing back his arm. "That was your chance. Now it's gone."

Emma's world condensed on her. Slowed and focused on that one instant. Her eyes followed Gold's hand and then the fire and her brain told her where it was going to end. And she had no time. It was act or don't act. Things might have turned out differently if she hadn't. If Emma had allowed her logic to play out instead of impulsively leaping then any number of realities might exist. But she didn't think. She leapt. And when you leap into fire, you get burned.

**A/N: So, this chapter hated me. Hope you guys enjoyed it... Anyway, I also have an idea for Hook's backstory...I was thinking of bringing in Wendy? I wanted to know if people would like that or if they could care less. I can achieve the same ends without her, but I was sort of developing my own version of Wendy and she'd be like...sisterly to Killian. (meaning, I wouldn't be bringing in a potential rival or anything, just someone who was close to Killian when he was a kid. When you hear the backstory it'll make sense.) I'm going to keep their relationship regardless when I address his backstory, but I wasn't sure about actually having Wendy as a character in Storybrooke. Maybe I can just have them in flashbacks? Anyway, just curious if anyone even cared since you guys have all been reviewing and following this story when I hadn't expected nearly as much enthusiasm. Thanks for reading! I hope to get some more chapters finished this weekend. :)**

**Oops, and a side note about the Hook/motion sickness thing. It's quite common for people to be fine in cars but not on boats. Cars and boats move in completely different ways and so I think it's believable that he might get car sick. Especially since I stuck in that line about him not liking carriages either. He's meant to be on a boat and that's where he feels his best. So I thought it was believable, and also super funny, for him to be sick in a car.  
**


	9. Because Letting Go is Hard

**Part Nine  
Because Letting Go is Hard**

Killian had been ready. He had anticipated dodging the Crocodile's attack. As if he would let a fight between them end so quickly. In fact, he had meant to be rather smug about the whole thing. Stored up a few quips to throw in Gold' face.

What he had not seen coming was Emma's reaction. He had counted on her doing the sensible thing and jumping out of the way. She hadn't been the target. She should have been fine. But instead he felt her crashing into his side. Her body fell on top of him and pinned him.

The wind had been knocked from his lungs, but he wasn't trying to breath. Emma was on top of him. And she wasn't moving. In the wasted minutes it took to get his limbs moving he could hear voices, but they were far far away. His eyes were open and he was terrified.

But he had to move. Killian lifted his right hand and eased her sideways, laying her head on the concrete. "Emma?" Her eyes were closed and as he looked further down he could see the singed jacket, the melted leather eating through her clothes. "Shit." He worked the jacket off her as quickly and gently as possible. Her shoulders and upper arm looked the worse, but her pants had also been singed and he couldn't see what damage had been done there. Hesitantly, he brought up two fingers and pressed them lightly to her neck.

A pulse. Faint, but there. She wasn't dead.

The voices behind him were growing louder and clearer, but he still couldn't understand a word. What the hell had she been thinking? He was more than capable of getting out of the way…

"A question for when you're awake." He said under his breath. Then there was a rush of people surrounding him and he was thrown backward. In an instant, Emma was engulfed and he was pushed and pulled further and further away.

"She was trying to protect him. I saw it happen." Ruby.

"We weren't fast enough." The woman…Snow White…

"She's breathing." Killian no longer identified one voice from the other.

"Oh thank God."

"Dr. Whale? How bad is it?"

"Listen, we all just need to give her some space. I can't tell anything right now. We've got to get her to the hospital. I can treat her there. You've already called an ambulance?"

"Yeah. I called right after you guys all got here. I should have stopped her from leaving, but she just ran out. I couldn't grab her."

"I know, Red. You…it's not your fault. At least you got there when you did. Or it could have been so much worse."

Killian inched backward and then watched them pick her up and set her inside the loudest machine he had ever heard. He stood up and started to…but they were already shutting her inside and leaving. When the crowd began to disperse someone spoke behind him, someone talking to him.

"Look, I know it's not your fault. Saw the whole thing."

Killian turned around to Ruby.

"Just…let her parents see that she's okay. They'll calm down and then you can see her."

His eyes were intent on Ruby, but he didn't speak. She shifted on her feet and then realized that he wouldn't be speaking. Not to her.

"I just thought you should know." Ruby turned around and left him, not offering any further information. For now, he was fine being left alone. The idea had crossed his mind to go after Rumplestiltskin, but somehow that didn't seem like the thing he was supposed to be doing. He had better things to do at the moment than go searching for some slimy Crocodile that had no doubt been scared off. Or whatever had happened. As for Emma, well, she had done something incredibly stupid and reckless. Impulsive. Ludicrous. Moronic.

Selfless.

It was easy to start assigning blame for her actions. To label her as rash, but there was no getting around what had driven Miss Emma Swan to dive into what might have been her death. Whatever her logic had told her, he held no doubts that she had been trying to protect him. Perhaps that is why he was upset with her.

Night was beginning to fall over Storybrooke before he had decided to heed Ruby's advice. Not that he had any idea where Emma was being held, but he would start looking and hopefully stumble upon the infirmary just as her visitors were leaving. That was not a conversation he was interested in having. He started heading up the road in the direction everyone else had gone as a start. He did not, however, get far.

"I leave you for ten minutes and you start fights in the middle of the street?"

Killian's head hit a wall and it was amazing how much damn abuse he'd taken over the past few days. "Cora." He acknowledged, still pinned. She stalked in front of him, staring at him with a gentle shake of her head. "Look, I've no time for your games. Just tell me what you came to and let me be on my way."

"My daughter is willing to give me a second chance." Cora began, as if he were some confidant. She really needed a journal or something.

"How very nice for you." He scoffed, and when he struggled to move was held tighter to the wall.

"Yes. I suppose it's a start. She's still…she still needs some time."

"You've tried to kill her. You've ruined her life. I'd say you're lucky to get even that. Why are you telling me this?"

Cora stared firmly, which he returned with a bored tilt of his eyebrows. "Because I think you could prove useful."

Killian laughed, shaking his head. "No, no. You see, our deal is over. Revenge is…for the time being, dealt with. So I don't need your assistance which in turn means you've nothing to offer me. Now if you'll kindly let me go, I've somewhere to be."

"Swan's bedside? Is that what's so important to you now?"

His eyes were dark as he thought about his words before using them. "Where I go is no longer your concern."

"Oh, but you see, it is very much my concern. Especially, since you find yourself in so promising a position." Cora's lips quirked and he did not like where this conversation was heading.

"How is that?"

"You think I don't know?" She chuckled. "You silly, silly man. There's nothing I don't know. You are Emma Swan's true love. Don't deny it, I know you'll try. But you see I really don't care who you chose to fool around with. It's honestly the furthest thing from my mind. However, Emma Swan is the key to getting my daughter back."

Killian didn't probe her further. Even though Cora had paused and expected him to.

Cora sighed. "You are going to help me get Emma out of the picture."

"And if I refuse?"

"Oh, darling, I'm not going to leave you with a choice, now am I?" Cora lifted her hand.

"Wait." Killian stalled her, but she didn't lower her arm. Her fingers still stretched out for his chest. "Wait." If Cora took his heart then he couldn't protect Emma even if he wanted to. He'd be in Cora's control. And he couldn't have that. Besides, he was no one's puppet.

"I'm listening." Cora was humoring him. There was very little he could say that would make her risk letting him to his own devices.

Killian was staring at her hand and as terrible as it was to think that Cora would be in possession of his heart…she was also planning on using it against Emma.

"What is it you want with Emma?" He started.

"What do you mean? I want her dead."

Killian swallowed, but continued. "And what's stopping you?"

"Magic. She's guarded. Some true love nonsense, I don't know. But that's why I need you. You can get close to her. You can get her to do what I want."

"This isn't really about Emma?" He reasoned, studying her. He had been around Cora enough to know that killing Emma was not necessarily what she really wanted.

Cora huffed once. "In a manner of speaking. Henry is Regina's son, too. And she wants him back. The only way for him to truly be hers is if Emma is no longer in the picture. But it has to be done delicately. If Henry suspects that Regina or even I had any part in it…then he'd never forgive her."

"So you want Henry?" Killian thought he saw his chance.

"If you're just trying to save Emma, then I'll just have your heart and be done with it."

"No!" Killian tried to back away, but couldn't move. "You're being too hasty. This is delicate, yes? You honestly think that Emma will allow me near her when you're controlling me? I may not know much on the subject, but I imagine true love would notice."

Cora frowned. "There's a chance she might."

"Aye, and do you really want to risk that? So early?" Killian tempted and hoped she would bite.

"I've waited a long time for my daughter…"

"But your ends cannot be achieved with haste. That is how you make mistakes."

Cora seemed to be getting annoyed. Which meant it was working. "So you don't want me to take your heart. How do I ensure that you do what I need?"

Killian shrugged. "I'm sure there are all manner of ways you could find to punish me if I stray from your task."

"That I could." She said, but then she considered. "I admit you have a point. Needlessly rushing in would make Swan suspicious. If I lose you then I'd have to find some other way to get what I want. However, I don't believe there is anything I can do to you that would ensure your loyalty."

"Is my word not enough?" It was worth a shot.

"Hardly. Like I would believe that you'd betray her of your own will." Cora shook her head. "No, that won't be good enough. You seem over your little revenge campaign, so I can hardly promise you that…unless."

"What?" Killian said, glaring.

Cora stepped closer, looking him in the eye. "Unless you're not quite finished. Rumplestiltskin, he took much from you. And if I was right, he also tried to kill your love. Again." Cora studied him and he knew that she was seeing through him. "If you remain loyal to me…I can get you the one thing you've been looking for. The dagger." Cora smiled. "Yes, I can see that you're already considering it. The dagger would not only kill your enemy, but it would give you his power."

"I'm not interested in the Crocodile's power. I'm interested in killing him."

"And that you could. If you only had the dagger."

"And you know where it is?" He said, wary.

"Of course. Or, I know how to get it, but that's as close as you'll ever get." Cora smiled. "So that is my deal. You continue to be my ally and I get you the dagger."

"And—"

"And if you fail. Or if you give any indication of crossing me. I'll make you wish I had taken out your heart." Without another word Cora vanished and Killian felt the crushing weight release him and he staggered on his feet. For a moment, he did nothing.

He would be lying if he said the offer wasn't tempting. But it was the first time he had ever considered that the price was too high to pay. Cora was relying on his consuming obsession with revenge. And rightly too. As much as he had enjoyed taking the Crocodile's heart, this new offer was bringing up a sense of purpose again. A reason to keep going.

But was it worth Emma?

The answer was no. It was not worth her death. So only one option lay before him. The only one he could work towards without completely self destructing.

He would get both.

* * *

**A/N: Killian chapters are much easier than Emma chapters. I don't know why. But yeah, this is my attempt to address that Hook does have a bit of a ways to go before he is over everything. I mean, he seemed to be considering that Emma was his new goal, but you really don't get over 300 years of revenge in two days. So he needs to address and then hopefully move on from that part of his life. Thanks for reading! And to all the people who leave comments, it is much appreciated! ^_^**


	10. I'll Fight for You, I Will Always Fight

**A/N: AHHHHHHRRRRGGHH! I swear this story is killing me. Slowly taking pieces of me and tearing them to shreds. I have re-written parts of this chapter individually at least four or five times a piece. These characters just kept doing their own thing and I had to adjust my plans to suit their needs. Damn it. Anyway. Hope you like this chapter. (Oh, and the title. Snowing parallel anyone? Anyone? I thought it fit.) Thank you for reading. ^_^  
**

**Part Ten  
I'll Fight for You, I Will Always Fight for You**

Maybe his life had never been simple. But it had been simpler. There had been a few good years here and there, though the memories were invariably scattered and mostly overshadowed by the bad. Currently, he found himself with two conflicting interests and that made his life infinitely more difficult.

The bottom line was that nothing was going to cost Emma's safety. Whatever happened to him, what he gained or lost, he'd not be betraying her to Cora. There was no honor in that. It would have been the lowest form of cowardice and Emma deserved better. However, that did not mean he was dead set against Cora's offer. He only needed to conceive a way of getting what he wanted from her without hurting Emma. It would be difficult and that was putting it mildly. And, of course, all this would have to be kept from Emma for the time being. She might not be happy when she inevitably discovered Cora's intentions and his involvement, but that couldn't be helped. Telling her would only put her in danger. If Killian's role was spoiled Cora would replace him with someone even less likely to seek Emma's best interest.

Presently, there were more pressing matters at hand. Like Emma's condition and he had finally located what he now knew was a hospital. He was momentarily stalled by the doors sliding open before him and once he was inside he paused to decide a direction. The odd glance or stare sent his way had not been lost on him and he found that a man dressed as him stood out rather forcefully in a crowd. At least in this land. The locals favored simpler fabrics and significantly less…leather. No matter. It's as if he could change should he wish to. With no real direction in mind, he chose a hall that looked like all the others and started down it when a voice called to him.

"Hook."

Killian spun to find a familiar face. "Ah yes, Mary Margret was it? Or do you prefer Snow White?" He offered her a kind smile. She was Emma's mother after all. It was not the hardest leap for him to make. Their dynamic was off, but Snow most assuredly had regarded Emma as a parent. Then Snow herself had claimed to be a grandmother and well, he wasn't about to ask questions. He didn't exactly look his age either. Identifying her as the once, but brief, ruler Queen Snow White had not been difficult for him once he looked past the hair. So the man behind her was no doubt her Charming.

"Mary Margret is fine." She replied.

"And you can call me David." David was currently eyeing Killian accusingly. But it was a look the pirate knew well. He had seen his share of protective fathers in his time. And had it been any other woman's parent he might have found it amusing to add some cheek and an unabashed defense for whatever he had been accused of. This was Emma's family, however, and it would not help him to be snarky.

"You're here to visit Emma?"

Killian sensed she knew the answer, but he replied politely regardless. "That is my intent, yes."

She nodded. "Uh-huh. Right. Well, she's fine. Doctor Whale says she'll be fine. So." Mary Margret spoke quickly and gave the distinct impression that her words were meant to console him into leaving.

"In my experience," He reigned in his tone, hoping to remain civil despite the idea of being so easily dismissed, "people who leap into flames do not usually end up 'fine.'" Civil but still firm. "I saw her injuries myself."

Mary Margret smiled and he could feel the conflict raging inside her. The woman was currently at war with her need to protect her daughter from…well, him and her kind nature that must see he had done nothing wrong. In this instance. So she might be harboring some sort of grudge about the choosing Cora. "Yes, she did look very bad when they had brought her in. And, of course, magical burns are far worse than normal ones. But…" Mary Margret glance at David and paused. Which was an extreme annoyance.

"But?" He prompted sharply.

Mary Margret shook her head. "But Emma. I'm not sure if we can say exactly what happened, we still don't fully understand. She's used magic before and she used that power to keep both of you safe. That blast would have killed both of you otherwise."

"She has magic?" This was news to him.

"Yes. That's why Cora couldn't take her heart—"

"Cora did what?" He shut his mouth and set his teeth together. He had not meant to snap, but Cora had mentioned none of this to him. Which is probably why the old bat had needed him in the first place. If she couldn't take Emma's heart than she would need some other means for manipulating her. It was nice to know how she valued him then, so careful to keep him properly informed. No matter. It was good that he would be working on breaking that particular chain as soon as possible. His outburst had not gone unnoticed. "Where is she?" He asked finally, ready to be done with this whole conversation.

Again, Mary Margret fought against her herself. David's hand moved to her shoulder and she reached for it without a thought. Cute. If there was one thing he could pick up on, it was that they were truly and completely together. True love indeed. "She is on the third floor. Room 321."

"Much obliged." He bowed his head and was about to locate a set of stairs when he was called back.

"Elevator's this way." Mary Margret pointed, but this did not help him know what an elevator was. "There's stairs too. If you'd prefer." He started in the direction she had indicated and then was called back again. His reluctance was all too apparent by then. "And Hook?" Mary Margret stepped forward, an offensive move meant to impart her true meaning. "You know that Emma's my daughter. And, since you know who I am, you'll know my reputation in the kingdom?"

Killian sighed. "Kind. True. Fair. In more ways than one." That last part had slipped out and he had almost sealed it with a wink before his senses returned.

"All right, Hook, this is the one time I let that slide." David said.

"I meant no disrespect. 'Fairest in the land' and all that."

"I don't care. I don't want you ever talking to my wife in anything other than polite formality, understand me? 'Cause otherwise, you and I? We're going to have problems. And if you ever want a chance with _my_ daughter then you don't want me as your problem."

"I don't respond well to threats." Killian eyed him as they stood, both unwilling to let the other gain any ground. "As for my manners, I've enough to realize that my comment was not well received and possibly not in good taste." His lips twitched into a smile, "For that…" his smile faded, "I offer my apologies. I've no wish to make an enemy of you, but I don't believe you have the ability to decide who your daughter associates with and whether you approve or not I am going to be associating. Now. I think we can all agree that Emma's well-being is of mutual concern?" He didn't wait for an answer. "So _I_ suggest we work toward that together and not as rivals."

"David." Mary Margret cooed his name and he hesitantly took a step back. "You're right." She said with a slight shrug to her shoulder. "Emma's well-being is our main concern. And I don't believe you intentionally plan on hindering that."

"Good. Then we're—"

"I'm not done." She snapped and presently she was more formidable than her tall dashing husband. "I don't believe you would intentionally hurt her, but I don't think you're not capable." At a loss, he waited for her to continue. "Revenge is a powerful, _powerful_ motivator. It takes over. The incessant need for revenge took the soul of someone I had once thought to be…" she swallowed and set her jaw. "…of someone I greatly admired and twisted her until there was almost nothing left of the woman I knew. If you wish to make a future with Emma…to _really_ find what can be possible for you and my daughter, then you have to make a choice. You _have_ to let go of your hate. Because that hate will destroy everything you care about whether you intend it or not. And if you bring that on Emma you are going to hurt her. And if you hurt her then I'm sorry, but I won't be kind or true or fair. I'll destroy you. You can count on that. So you can go up those stairs to her right now. I won't stop you. But you had _better_ be sure that you've left your revenge behind because I won't warn you again."

Mary Margret gave him a few seconds of silence before taking her husband's hand. "Let's go, David. He'll make his choice."

"It had better be the right one." David said, staring him down.

Killian fumed, staring into the beige walls as they left. What was sad was that as a first meeting with both of Emma's parents he could honestly say that it could've been much worse. Though he could have done without the preaching and thinly veiled threats. If he wasn't already suffering from confliction then he sure as hell wouldn't be finding any rest now. Killian found himself in front of a doorway that was labeled 'stairs' and hesitated.

It was always so interesting how people were so quick to tell you how you needed to behave. Revenge was destructive, yes, but it was also usually justified. He intended to kill Rumplestiltskin. Was that a bad thing? Would the world not be a better place without him? He'd be doing everyone a favor. Slaying the beast. If that satisfied some personal agenda then he couldn't help that. Why did good people hold such an issue with death? If someone threatens you…the lives and happiness of the people you care about then you extinguish that threat. Whatever cost. The Charmings had neglected to kill Regina and look where that had landed them. No. Killian's heart was not yet ready to see his path as wrong. Revenge was all too consuming for him to be free of it so easily. It was too clear in his mind that a man fights for what he wants and that meant, if necessary, people had to die. Threats had to be eliminated.

Resolved, temporarily, he started up the stairwell to the third floor. Finally, he was outside the door and through a window he could see Emma. She was standing and throwing a fresh jacket over her shoulders. She was intact if appearances meant anything. He opened the door and she flinched before realizing who he was.

"Hook. What're you doing here?"

"Where I come from, it's polite to inquire after the health of someone who risked themselves for your benefit."

Emma sucked in a breath and set the tips of her fingers in her pockets. "Yeah. About that. I, uh, I know you're probably thinking that I was an idiot to do it. People have been making that pretty clear..."

He frowned. "An idiot? Why would I ever call _you_ such a thing?"

"Cause." She started, confused that he hadn't jumped at the chance to berate her for being reckless. "Cause I must have been crazy to just throw myself in the middle like that…"

"Emma, if anyone would call you crazy for doing something noble than I suggest you find new friends." He watched her evenly, hoping that she understood just how sincere he was about this. "You acted rash, yes. I had the situation handled. But I don't think this is about impulsive decisions." He crossed his arms.

"You don't?" She seemed confused and he could see her doubting herself and that was not acceptable.

"Your mother mentioned that you have magic."

"Yeah. Sort of. I don't know how to use it—"

He took a step toward her. "Sort of?"

"What? This magic thing is new to me. I'm not…I didn't even think this kind of thing could exist a few months ago. It's not so easy to accept in others, all right. Even harder to accept that it's in me." She was defending herself. Still not understanding.

"My point is that you doubt this power. You doubt yourself." He narrowed his eyes. "But something tells me in that instant, when your choices were clear, your doubt was gone. It's trust Emma. And trust in yourself is the most important kind."

Emma adjusted her shoulders, eyes flicking toward him. "I just had this feeling…I just thought I could do it, you know? That protecting you was possible."

He was stepping closer, thankful that she hadn't backed away. How did she not see it? She was confident, not cocky, but she knew what she was capable of. Except, it seemed, in this. And it was her trust issues all over again. In magic she was hesitant, almost fearful. In trust and faith she was severely hindered. And damn him that he just had to change that.

Emma held up her hand when he reached the end of the hospital bed. "Look, I gotta get this out there, I didn't save you cause I'm secretly in love you. I would have done it for anyone. It just happened to be you this time. So don't go getting the wrong idea about this."

Killian laughed.

"What? What's so funny?" She snapped.

He paused at the edge of the hospital bed, resting his right hand on the footboard. "What is funny, Emma, is that you continue to misinterpret. I was simply…" He tried to find the words, taking another step as he reflected. He trailed his hand along the sheets as he moved. "Simply trying to enlighten you to your own accomplishment. Despite…" Killian paused, staring at a frayed string on the covers. "Despite…" He smiled, letting out a breath. "You see, you say you struggle with the concept of true love. Well, it is no picnic for me, either."

"But…but _you're_ the one pushing it. Going on and on about giving it a shot. About trusting each other and all that other crap."

"For heaven's sake, Emma, someone's got to." He was looking at her now, his voice louder than he intended. He bit back some frustration and continued, "You're not an easy woman to impress, Emma Swan. I admit you have made me work _very_ hard to gain even the smallest ground." He paused and licked his lips. "And I can't image I'm the only one to find myself up against a wall with you."

"Walls keep people safe." She argued. He was in front of her now, eyes intent on her face, though she seemed wary.

"Walls keep people trapped." He countered. Then he hung his head, almost laughing, but not quite managing. "Oh, but you are stubborn, aren't you? You'll fight me till the end."

"Fight you on what?"

His hand jumped from the bed to her shoulder, squeezing. He searched her eyes and she seemed unnerved by the sudden action, though she didn't protest. "Damn it." She had no idea, _no idea_ the torment that she was causing. There was no love between them. He wasn't over his revenge. He still carried the past with him and with the last of his strength he was clinging to the past like the drift wood of a sunken ship. He was miles out to sea and that tiny piece of debris, so old and battered it barely resembled the once fine ship it had been, had been the only thing he could reach. And yet the shore had never seemed so close 'till now. And he found himself fighting for her again and again. True. Love. Trust. These words were so final, so binding, so limiting. He wasn't ready for any of it, but he was fighting for it. Fighting for something he didn't even think he could achieve. Swimming to shore as his raft began to disintegrate in the salty waves.

Maybe it was because he was fighting Emma that drove him to do it. Her harsh, total, dismissal of the idea made him want it all the more. Whether or not he believed happy endings to be possible.

"Why are you pushing this?" She said quietly and she ignored his hand. "Why are you trying so hard to make something where there's nothing—"

"Because I like you, Emma." He stated, determined. And it was true. She had held his interest from the moment his head had been pulled backward and her knife pressed to his throat. From there, he had only grown more and more interested in the possibility of Emma Swan. "I don't think I've been enigmatic about that."

She swallowed and with a careful shrug replied, "Hardly."

"See. You roll your eyes. You feign hostility, but I can read enough to know that you're interested too. Do you deny it?"

She scoffed and shrugged off his hand finally. "Do I deny what? That you're a pain in the ass? That every chance you get you use to flirt and irritate me?"

"That you love every minute of it." He grinned now. He wanted Emma and he always fought for things he wanted. He had been fighting for her from the beginning. It was now that he was realizing his want stemmed from more than just a physical attraction. There was connection between them and she had to see it? He saw it, even if it terrified and confused him. "Go on. Say that you hate it and I swear to you…I will stop. I'll never say another word to you without…the most rigid sense of decorum."

"I…" Emma frowned. "That's…"

"Come, come, Emma. Don't be indecisive."

"I'm not being indecisive." She said, her jaw set. She may have pushed his hand away, but he was still so close. He could have just acted and let the cards fall where they may, but something told him that Emma needed to be in control of this. She was the one who needed to make that move, not him. Besides, he had never been in the habit of pursuing women. They usually pursued him.

"Then what is your answer?" He leaned in, but only so that he could capture her eyes again when she had looked away. If she was going to deny him then she would do it honorably. With her head held high and her words clear and direct. There was no shying away to a corner. That was beneath her.

So he waited for her decision. Allowing her to make it but forcing her to make it fully. "Okay. Okay, maybe I don't hate the comments. All the time."

He grinned. "Have I ever mentioned that you're quite beautiful when you're honest?"

She rotated her shoulders. "Don't be sappy."

"Sappy?" His smile grew, and while she may not have expected the compliment he had certainly not expected to be called 'sappy' for using it. "I've been around a long time and I can honestly say that I have never been described as 'sappy.'"

Emma shrugged. "I said don't be sappy. I didn't say I didn't like it." After a pause she loosened her stance. "I want to be clear on a few things right now."

"You've my undivided attention, love."

She smirked quickly as she moved close enough that he had to look down to see her face. "I don't know what's going to happen. All I can do is what I feel is right."

"And what do you feel is right?" She was in his space now and he couldn't help but sense her: her scent, her body, her breath. He watched the course of her tongue as she licked at her lips. Patience. It was her move.

"I don't know. I know that I see a lot of different outcomes to this and not all of them are pretty. But." Her eyes fell briefly, a vulnerability she sought to hide. "But after some…consideration, I don't think running is necessarily the answer. I'm not saying I believe in true love. I'm not saying we're destined to be together. I'm not even saying we can be."

"Forgive me, but that's an awful lot of not saying anything."

Emma smirked. "What I _am_ saying is that…provided we do things my way…I think I can be open to…" She shrugged, "Exploring my options."

"Is that so?" He chuckled. "And how shall you start this quest of yours, hm? I assume I'm permitted to come along?"

"For now." She took in a breath as he felt her collide into him. Whatever polite distance there had been was now completely eradicated. Every new breath pushed against his chest with blinding clarity.

"If you're suggesting that you can…_handle_ things on your own, by all means. I only ask that I be permitted to watch." Her droll eye roll was not unanticipated.

"Are _you_ suggesting that everything I say has to do with sex?"

"I believe that most things people say has to do with sex."

Emma's eyes kept focusing on his mouth and her weight was now nearly fully using him for support. "You have a comeback for everything."

"Oh, I'm nothing if not consistent, love." The urge to hug her was nearly overpowering his control. Not even to kiss her, but just to have her in his arms.

"You're still talking."

"It's your move, darling. A gentleman allows the lady to initiate."

"Yeah?" Her eyes rose up his face, arching her head when she found his eyes again. "And how am I supposed to do that if you can't shut up for five seconds?"

…

…

…

…

"Fiv—"

* * *

**A/N: I hope that it came out okay. I wasn't lying when I said I tweaked and edited this to death. That final scene with Emma...I kept loosing sight of their real intentions and losing their characters or I found that they wouldn't believably do what I had planned so I had to fix what I had written. It was just an all around headache of a chapter. I really hope people like it. I know I've been getting a lot of very nice reviews and I appreciate every comment on this story, so I hope I did them justice for you. Next chapter is an Emma chapter and...well...'stuff' happens. If you get what I mean. Probably going to be an 'M' rating for the next one. ;) Anyway, thank you for reading. I'm so glad people are enjoying this! Captain Swan is seriously the best. Couldn't have written this without them. ^_^**


	11. When It's Good, It's Good

**A/N: This is now rated 'M'. So if mature content bothers you, please don't continue reading. That being said, I decided that I didn't need to get sleep and wrote this chapter so I could post it quickly. I hope you guys like it, thank you to all the reviewers. Thanks for reading. ^_^  
**

**Part Eleven  
When It's Good, It's Good**

Well, Emma. She'd gone and done it now. She had meant what she said, she was fully intending on doing what she felt was right. And God help her if kissing him didn't feel all kinds of right.

Overzealous much? Mabye. But screw restraint, if she was doing this she was _doing_ this.

Emma wasn't standing any more. He had lifted her with insane ease onto the edge of that hospital bed and had pulled the back of her knee forward while kissing her backward into the sheets. And Emma held onto that obnoxious collar with all her strength as her legs latched and wrapped and squeezed. They were being so loud. How did no one hear it?

"We should move." Tearing away had been incredibly difficult and she was completely winded. Her shoulders fell up and down with the force of each breath and her fingers twisted around his collar. Okay, maybe it had been a while for her. So she was eager. So she was particularly sensitive. She was not about to associate any of her adrenaline fueled senses with him _specifically_.

There was absolutely no trace of humor in Hook's voice. "Where?"

"Uh…" Shit. She hadn't thought about where. Did she have a where? Just not here, obviously. "I dunno. We just can't here."

His shoulders fell, but he had not yet allowed her space to sit upright. Which meant he was tangled in her legs, leaning over her, with a few pieces of hair sticking out at the wrong angle. That had been her fault. She'd grabbed a handful and apparently, it was the exact thing to do since that is how they ended up nearly horizontal.

"My ship." He said finally.

Emma frowned. "Seriously?"

"And your suggestion would be?" He prompted sharply.

"Right. I don't have any." Emma bit her lip and considered. Boat. Apartment. Was there really that much of a difference? No logical reason why not. "Okay. Boat it is."

She pushed against him lightly, trying to free herself, but as she rose he went down and then she was kissing him breathless again. So much for self control. "Seriously…" Denying him her lips made him opt for her cheeks, her chin, her neck. "Seriously…we…not here…"

Hook let out a sigh as his head fell into her shoulder. "And I am to play by your rules."

"Yeah. My rules." She said, forgetting that she had even said that. "And my rules say no hospital rooms where the door has a window." She could feel his head turn and she guessed he was just remembering said window. With a sigh he straightened and offered his good hand to help her. She took it and began to smooth out her clothing. As she was combing her fingers through her hair she pointed at his. "You should probably fix that."

With a huff he was smoothing down the stray pieces. Emma looked for the coat Mary Margret had brought for her and threw it on as she went for the door. She felt it necessary to look back and forth before leaving, to make sure it was clear. Not that it mattered if people saw them. Maybe the fact that they'd just been inches from clawing their clothes off made it seem much weirder than it was. Emma motioned for him to follow her and they ducked out of the hospital with little problems. Once they were outside Hook paused and looked up at the sky, stalling Emma.

"What're you looking for?" She said, looking up too since he seemed to be searching for something.

Hook pointed upward, "The docks are due northeast. Which would be…" he followed a line with his hand and then pointed what Emma assumed was northeast. "That way."

"Did…" Emma jogged to catch up to him and was smiling. "Did you just use the stars to get directions?"

Hook glanced at her, "Pirate, love. I find it easier to navigate with the stars."

"Yeah, but I could have just told you where the docks are." She said and when he frowned she added, "But it's impressive. Considering."

The night air was cool and the breeze was colder. It cooled Emma's head and she considered what she was currently endeavoring to do. The lunacy was not lost on her. I mean, when she said it to herself.

_I am about to sleep with Captain Hook._

See? Ridiculous. As she processed this thought it was the first time she considered calling him Killian. She hadn't really considered the differences in the name, but if she could guess…Hook was the name he adopted after the whole hand thing with Rumplestiltskin. So it had been his name during his whole binge for revenge. Thing about the past is that as much as you want to let it go, it still affects you. Changes you. However you learn to handle it those experiences can't be taken away and they make you the person you are. So he would never be old Killian again, Hook would always be a part of him. She could understand that. It's just…for a moment she considered what that meant. That meant that the vengeful pirate she'd known wasn't the only part of who he was. And holy shit, she'd just had a full on existential epiphany in the space of a five minutes.

Clearing her throat she hoped that he hadn't chosen that moment to play that mind game where he told her exactly what she was thinking. His eyes were forward, so she doubted he was paying her any attention. Which was good. She wasn't ready for him to know what she thought about all that yet. It was a tiny revelation and she was curious to see where it went, but nothing more.

They reached the dock and Emma looked at the ships in front of them, trying to figure out which one would be his but…none of them really _fit_. Then he started walking toward the empty part of the dock and she chuckled, hanging back. "What, your ship invisible or something?"

Hook paused. Stared at her. Smirked. Then stepped into thin air.

"Invisible ship. I feel like I should have seen that coming." Emma approached warily, trying to see the haze of an outline, anything to help her believe there was really a ship there. She ended at about the spot where he had disappeared and hesitated. There was nothing there. She examined the space before he was once again standing in front of her, a rippling in the air as he passed through some sort of barrier.

"I need you to wait here while I make sure it's clear."

"What'd you mean clear?" She asked, eyes narrowed.

He offered her a charming smile, no doubt hoping to console her into dropping the issue. "Just a minute."

"Hook." She ordered, not liking that her first thought was Cora. "There's something you're not telling me."

At least he had the grace to drop the smile. "Don't concern yourself with—"

"It's Cora. She came with you." Emma lowered her head, hands on her hips. "I should've known…she's how you got here isn't she?"

His eyes were lowered and he stared at her resolutely. "Aye. She was with me."

Emma bit her tongue. How did she not consider that? "Where is she now?"

"I don't know."

"Great. So there's some random psycho on the loose and here I am about to bed her accomplice." Emma put her hand to her forehead. "This is crazy. Ugh…damn it."

"I'm not her accomplice." He hissed, stung. "I'm no longer aligned with Cora. I was never really allied with her to begin with. I needed to get here, to your world and she was my ticket and that is the end of it."

Emma narrowed her eyes. "Why do I get the feeling that you're stretching some of that?"

Hook met her stare and seemed to be wrestling with his next words. "I am not lying to you, Emma." Then his eyes closed briefly before he continued. "But I _am_ omitting information."

"Okay, what information?"

"See, if I could tell you then I wouldn't have omitted it in the first place." He argued. "I'm not here to lie to you, but I need you to trust me on this. I will tell you everything when it's time, but for now you'll just have to take my word."

Emma kicked at the ground, pursing her lips. "Take your word. Perfect. So you're basically telling me that I have to trust that you're not here working for Cora?"

"That is exactly what I am saying." He said evenly.

She shook her head. "Can't. I can't…"

"Take that risk?" He took a step toward her, now standing completely on the dock with her. "Yes, I've heard that before. This is about the part where you chain me to something and walk away."

"I apologized for that."

"And yet you seem determined to repeat the offense." He seemed genuinely angry, though he wasn't shouting or threatening, she knew the topic was still a touchy one.

But he had a point. She'd admitted that she'd been thinking of her own fears when she had betrayed him at the beanstalk. Maybe he hadn't been physically hurt by it, but it had still been the wrong thing to do. He was being honest with her, even if he was being cryptic. Maybe he did have a good reason to not tell her everything.

Emma let her shoulders fall. "If you knew where she was, would you tell me?"

"Yes."

"And you're serious about not working with her?"

"Emma, I consider her an enemy."

Emma shrugged. "Then okay."

He raised an eyebrow. "You'll trust me?"

"I'll believe that you're telling me the truth. How's that?"

He shook his head, smiling. "Give it time, Emma Swan. But for now, I suppose that is all I can ask."

Emma nodded. "All right." She looked sideways, where a boat should have stood and pointed. "So. Do I get to see it or not?"

His right hand extended and Emma stared at the gesture. Taking his hand was sealing her faith in him. Or at least in his story. Emma set her palm on his outstretched hand and paused before curling her fingers and squeezing.

Then she was being pulled into the air and the next thing she knew a full on ship was sitting in front of her. Emma stepped onto the deck and, okay, she was impressed. He released her hand and started walking toward a door that probably led to the cabins or down stairs or whatever ship stuff was called.

"I won't be long. Stay on deck until I get back."

Emma nodded and then he was gone. The boat swayed under her feet and she adjusted her stance with the movement. Once she accepted that the ship would move with the water occasionally, she found it easier to move around. First place she went? The helm.

Licking her lips she smiled at the boat steering wheel and made sure that Hook wasn't back before reaching out and wrapping her fingers around the handles. Grinning like mad, Emma began to turn it and the ship responded with a few creaks and groans that made her pull her hands back. Once she determined that nothing was going to happen she took the helm again and spun it the other way. It was harder to turn than she had thought, but she was able to spin it back and forth without too much difficulty.

And then she realized that she, Emma Swan, was standing on a pirate ship. She started to get into this pretend steering thing. Getting her shoulders and body into it.

"You're a natural."

Emma jumped and laughed as she tucked her bangs behind her ears. "Really?"

Hook had walked up the few stairs leading to the helm and was leaning on the rail. His arms were crossed and he raised an eyebrow. "No. I was humoring you. You were doing that entirely wrong."

She scoffed. "It's just turning a big wheel. How can you get it wrong?"

When he sighed and headed toward her, it was striking how natural he looked. She'd seen him in that outfit out in the Enchanted Forest and then in Storybrooke, but this was the first time she'd seen him where he belonged. Kinda sexy. She had to say.

Hook walked behind her and placed his right hand over hers, the other hooking a random spoke. "You're not simply turning a big wheel, lass."

Emma blinked, noting that there really wasn't a reason for him to be pressing into her back, but that he was leaning into her regardless. She swallowed and tried to glance at him over her shoulder. "Then what?"

He didn't seem to be joking or especially playful. He looked out over the ship somberly. "You're steering the ship. Guiding it to its direction. You're communicating with the wind and the waves, because they must all work together for her to move." He gently guided her hand, spinning the wheel slowly to the left and then back again, then right, then straight. "You don't just yank back and forth, you guide. It's more like nudging than steering."

Emma nodded, holding her head high and allowing him to move their hands. "I think I got it."

She could feel his head turn, his chin rubbing her hair. "In the span of five minutes? I doubt it, love."

"What? I'm a fast learner."

He let out a small laugh and she could feel the tremor of it in her back. "Well, that may be, but you're still only tied to a dock."

Emma leaned her head sideways, then backwards, resting it lightly on his shoulder. "Never thought I'd hear you so serious about something." She wanted to add, something that wasn't 'Milah', but bringing her up didn't seem to be the right thing to say just then.

Noting the change in her posture, she could feel his head tilting, his breath on her neck and she leaned backward. His lips brushed her skin and she sucked in air as she brought her hand up and held the back of his head. With a careful twist of her hips she had turned herself in his arms and stayed pinned between him and the helm as she started to kiss him gently. Her hands slid up along his cheeks and held his face lightly, mouth parting with each new angle of her head. The cold breeze off the water was just starting to break her concentration on the moment…

The next thing she knew her feet were swept out from under her and her arms flew around Hook's neck to keep her balance. He never broke the kiss, which was mildly impressive, and he glided down the stairs, turned, and carried her bridal style through the door she had seen earlier. And it was even more impressive that he did all this without bumping her head. She could feel them turning down halls, going down stairs, and all the while he seemed to be concentrating solely on capturing her mouth in every angle possible. How they made it to his room she still couldn't say. She only knew that they were there because he had kicked in a door and was now kneeling on a bed to set her down.

The problem with lying her down was that, while she had been enjoying the pleasant scent that clung to his clothes, she was now engulfed in it. And Emma did not know much about it, but scent was one of the most powerful senses. So suddenly finding it surrounding her had driven her to pull him down and then under her. In the attempt she had had to break contact with his lips and he was now pinned beneath her with a thigh on either side of his waist.

And if his seductive scent was fuel for her ardor, then displays of dominance fueled his. Needless to say, her blouse was now in artfully shredded scraps on the floor. They moved from kissing to disrobing to clawing to caressing and all various degrees between.

Maybe it had just been a really long time, but Emma couldn't tell up from down any more. Sheets, blankets, pillows, limbs were everywhere. Pants had been the next thing to go. Followed by her bra and then everything was gone and there was nothing left.

Hands wandered, explored, teased. She made full use of her two, but he only really need the one to make her squirm and gasp. It might have helped that it was dark, only a faint reflection of moonlight reflected in the water and filtering through the window. It was enough light to see by when you were in it, but when the shadows consumed you there was no telling what his mouth would find or where her hands landed. Not that they ever stayed in one spot. There was some rolling and pinning and then fighting over who was in control. It was obvious that neither of them were in any state of control, but that didn't stop them from biting and pulling and clawing to get their way. And the tease of caresses and bold kisses were just beginning to drive Emma to frustration…

Driven back into the mattress Emma was held in place, arms pinned, and Hook was lying over her and she could feel his lips on her cheek and then near her ear.

"Better?" He whispered and Emma didn't know what he meant, at first. Then as she slowly, rhythmically, understood and there was really no reason to answer. It would be hours later when she realized that he had been reading her. Even then. Knowing exactly what she wanted and then providing without any indication. She didn't know if it was just skill or some sort of sign. Whatever the reason, it nearly had her screaming and definitely had her drawing her nails over his back.

Sweaty. Winded. And incredibly relaxed, Emma lay still and comfortably covered with blankets and Hook's arm. Neither of them were asleep, but neither of them had spoken either. Their breathing evened, pulses stabilizing. Night ticked on and it looked like it was nearly morning, the dawn just beginning to break.

As weird as it seemed to her, they had said more in those few hours of silence than they'd ever said in their pointless bickering. She hadn't needed to ask to know that he was just as scared as she was.

Emma might not yet believe in true love, but she knew when sex felt right. And what had just happened had gone so much deeper than right or wrong. There was no guilt afterward, which was unexpected. She thought she would feel some sort of remorse, even if only for her pride that she was stronger than the temptation. But regret was the last thing on her mind. Wherever they were emotionally there was no denying on either side that they were there physically.

But it had been so long…there was every possibility that she had just been so hard up for physical contact that it blew the whole experience out of proportion. Except…

The second time shouldn't have felt _just_ as amazing, but it did. It totally did.

Emma twirled a finger into the covers, chewing her lip. This was going to be hard to overlook. And Hook didn't seem any less freaked by the idea. Somber blue eyes and frown, she could tell he was on a similar train of thought. Since that experience was, and she needed to just face it, _the_ best then she might have been heading for trouble. Because all she needed was incredible sex to influence her decision about something that shouldn't just be about a great fucking time.

Finally, she turned and their eyes met briefly. "I'll find you a shirt." He offered. "You'll want to have time to change before Henry can jump to any conclusions."

"Thanks." She said before realizing she hadn't even mentioned that she wanted to keep this from Henry. Slipping on pants and draping his now button-less shirt over his shoulders, Killian-Hook, Hook went to a closet and threw a shirt in her direction. Emma hated that it smelled like him, even clean it still smelled completely and fully like leather wrapped sex in salt water. How the hell was she supposed to concentrate if she put it on?

"I don't have anything else with a chance of fitting you." He said as she stared at the shirt bitterly.

Shaking her head, she realized it wasn't his fault he smelled like bottled lust. "Yeah." She began to put it on, followed by her pants and her boots…or boot. "Damn it." She cursed. "Where's my other—oh."

Killi-Hook reached for a bookcase in the corner and pulled her boot down, crossing the room to hand it to her. Emma kept her eyes on the boot, taking it with a click of her tongue. "Not going to ask how it got all the way over _there_."

Her comment made him smile and almost brought out a laugh. "I'd imagine it was sometime after you tearing my shirt or me destroying yours."

She was able to smile too, now mostly dressed and just missing her jacket. "So."

Hook was standing in front of her, shirt hanging loose since he couldn't button it. Emma shifted and was about to say goodbye when he was holding her, leaning in for a kiss. He kissed her to the door, swinging her around and marching her backward until she was in the doorway.

"I gotta go." She said into his lips. "Sorry, but we're not ready to for people to know about this yet." And she said 'we' and he noticed.

Sighing, he released her waist. "Right you are, love." Kill-Hook, she really needed to stop doing that. He was Hook. Any way. _Hook_ showed her the way to the main deck and she turned for one last goodbye.

"Don't get into trouble, okay? Going to make this whole thing so much harder if I've got to arrest you again."

Hook smirked. "I make no promises, love."

Emma rolled her eyes. "Whatever. I'll…I'll see you later."

He leaned into her face, "Of that, I've no doubt." He winked and then kissed her quickly before allowing her to leave. Emma was making her way up the dock quickly, hoping to avoid detection. It occurred to her that she had not gotten any sleep and that Mary Margret would be worried if she woke up to find Emma not at home. Especially after what had happened yesterday. Damn it, yesterday. Emma groaned, not looking forward to the process of cleaning up Gold's mess. It was going to be a long day.

* * *

**A/N: So that happened. I aim for more of ambiguous, inferred scenes when dealing with sex. I dunno. I'm super tired. I feel like I lost Hook a little toward the end there...he got away from me a bit. And yeah. I really wanted to get this chapter out cause this is mostly where my intended plan ends so I've got to come up with the next part before I can continue. Anyway, that's enough of my rambling. Thanks for reading! ^_^ **


	12. Partners

**A/N: Sorry for the long wait. I wasn't getting any ideas on where to go and I was being lazy. Thankfully, I found a direction again. I hope to finish the whole story by the end of the hiatus. I'm going to be blending the canon plot with my own, since I've already strayed from it. Hope you enjoy the chapter. **

**Part Twelve  
Partners**

"Very good."

Her words tormented him.

"Distracting Swan is all I needed for now. And you're doing an _excellent_ job of it."

Killian sat on the edge of his bed, a bottle in his good hand.

"Bravo, Captain. The dagger will be yours shortly."

Rum spilled out of the corner of his mouth as he tipped back the bottle and he wiped at his lips with the back of his hand. The alcohol wasn't helping in the slightest, but it was something to do. Eventually, he'd begin to feel the tingle of it in his limbs and the dulling of his senses, but his memories were sharp as ever. One of the _benefits_ he'd begun to notice since leaving Neverland. It took so much more to really get him drunk.

The dagger would be his shortly. Cora claimed that she and her daughter were working on discovering its location and the last time she had appeared, a few hours prior, she said they had found something that might prove fruitful. They believed it to be a map, but they were having trouble deciphering its meaning.

He could sense it. Vengeance was going to be his. Completed. The Crocodile would die. And the flavor of it was so crisp on his lips that it was hard not to notice how vile it tasted.

More rum. He tipped back his head until the bottle was empty. Disappointed at the bottle's failure to remain full he threw it across the cabin and it shattered. Reaching down and under the edge of the bed he found another bottle and stared at it before pulling out the cork with his teeth.

Revenge was supposed to be savored. A fine wine that had plenty of time to age and should now be the riches thing in this world. He smiled darkly to himself. But then he would be lying if he said he hadn't found something that truly tasted divine. A sweet _intoxicating_ temptation that had all the affects of alcohol but the feel of heavenly skin.

Emma had proven more of a challenge to his plans than even he could have believed. His plan had been simple enough: he would gain the dagger from Cora and not endanger Swan's life in the process. But now guilt had begun to mix and stir in among the depths of vengeance and self-loathing. He could not continue to do what Cora asked of him. And yet keeping away from Emma was just as unimaginable.

And if all that wasn't enough he had started to consider the possibility of forgetting revenge entirely. He blamed Snow White and her honeyed words of 'wisdom' for this. Either way it was becoming clear that he could not have both goals. He would have to choose. And sitting in his room had been his attempt to work out what that choice would be. Which had led to the first scattered remains of a rum bottle. He was now a good way through the third.

He was fighting now. Fighting the words he did not want to conjure about Swan or any woman he encountered ever. Words of meaning. Words that he had been so carelessly throwing around in jest when this whole mess had started in the hospital. But if he was honest, it hadn't even been a difficult leap.

There was the first time she had used his name.

* * *

_Clothes stayed on. Hands had snaked unto bare skin and their pants had been worked down. They weren't in private. A bathroom in Emma's office. The door locked. They had been loud and ruthless. He held her to the wall and she held to whatever she could find. And when her breathing finally hitched and her exclamations grew more rushed, nearly shouting each moan into his face, she had breathed one word under her breath that had been all he could hear._

"_Killian."_

* * *

From then she had taken to calling him Killian in private. In public they had remained secretive, but he had a feeling that some of the town was beginning to guess. From the looks on faces when his hand would brush hers and she'd grasp it. When they stood just _too_ close for people who hadn't felt every recess and indent of the other. There was the sneaking at night that happened much too often for someone not to notice. The times when even daylight wasn't enough to deter them. It had only been a few days since that first time, but for all the 'work' she claimed to have neither had found themselves too busy.

The bottle began to slip from his hands as he closed his eyes to the memories not of Cora, but of more pleasing views of Emma. There had been the first time he had _almost_ spoken his thoughts aloud. The most recent. The night before.

* * *

_Hidden away in his cabin she hadn't approached him with her shirt half way off, so willing to not let a second pass. Instead, she fell backward onto the bed and started by talking. About her day. About work. About her mother. About Henry. A conversation that had eventually led to sweet kisses and affectionate holding that then evolved into breathless gasps into open mouths and the weight of her climbing on top of him. Maybe it had been the casual conversation. Maybe it had been the slow build up instead of lustful grabbing. Whatever had been the cause, when Emma had purred 'I want you' his response had almost, very nearly, been 'I love you.'_

* * *

It had almost been enough to stop him. And it had certainly pulled him out of their kiss before she had distracted him effectively and the near declaration had been forgotten. Forgotten until she had started the hunt for her clothes and had kissed him good-night and left him to his thoughts. What scared him more than anything was that he could not convince himself that it was a slip of the moment.

More rum.

His door opened and he could hear a person entering, but he did not need to see to know who it was so he kept drinking. He knew the sound of those boots on his wooden floors and the weight that carried it. God, if he didn't know every one of Emma's twitches and gestures and gentle, oh so subtle, hints…

"Whoa." Emma stopped part of the way to the bed and held a hand to her nose. "Did you soak this place in alcohol?"

He tipped his head back and eyed her as he lifted the bottle. "Not quite, but give it time. I'll manage it."

She narrowed her eyes as she watched him drink and then lower his hand. She was wary and he stared at her. He had referred to her as an open book. Well now she was a very well read and studied book and hell if he did not memorize every word he had learned in observing her over the past few days. Because yes, that is all it had taken to swallow him in the depths of such a profound sense of crisis. A few bloody days. Swan was strong, but when it came to the walls around his carefully laid out plans she had taken almost no time whatsoever in pulverizing them.

Emma strode closer and snatched the bottle in a quick move. "What the hell is going on here?"

He hiccuped slightly and shrugged one shoulder. "Having a drink. What's it look like?"

"Okay." She took the bottle and placed it on the desk as well as pausing to observe the remains of the previous two. Shaking her head on that subject she walked to one of the book shelves built into the wall and grabbed a glass and poured some water into it. "Here." She walked back to him, glass extended and when he had reached for it she splashed the lot of it in his face.

Closing his eyes he let the water run down his face before attempting to wipe it away.

"There. Feel a bit better now?" She slammed the glass down.

"Bit, actually."

"Good. Now tell me what the hell you're doing sitting here getting drunk like your dog just died."

"I don't have a dog—"

"It's an expression." She countered. "Now come on. What the hell could lead someone to…what looks like nearly three empty bottles of rum? And for the record, it reeks in here."

The water had helped to sober him, but he had barely been drunk to begin with. Too much time spent in a land without aging. In stasis. In this moment he truly wished he had been drunk. Then he might have told her everything without a thought. Now, if he told her anything, it would have to be consciously and with full clarity of what that could mean.

Killian ran his hands down his face again, shaking the last bits of water from his face. He could feel her sit next to him when the bed dipped. She was no doubt going to stubbornly hold out until he offered her an answer. Instead, he tried to elicit some distraction.

The feel of her thigh through jeans had always been a marvel. She didn't protest his hand and he worked it under the edge of her shirt until she was falling backward and he was leaning over her. However, when his eyes finally traveled up her to meet her eyes she was clearly not having it.

Emma's arms were crossed over her as she lay beneath him. "Nice try, Captain."

His head fell onto her chest. But the idea of her had his hands and mouth moving on their own and Emma was pushing him off her.

"Not happening." She instructed as she flipped them so that he was the one lying down. She remained next to him not wanting to fuel him further.

"I'm not in the mood for sharing." He replied crisply.

"Fine then." She smiled. "Have it your way." Then she got up and headed for the door.

"Emma." He didn't know why he called her back. He wanted her to leave. Then he wouldn't have to talk.

Emma turned over her shoulder. "Are you ready to talk?"

He frowned, glaring at her. "You should know that it's not always that easy."

She sighed, her eyes softening. "Yeah. Of course I get that." She turned away from the door. "I'm not asking to be difficult. I'm asking cause I care." Her eyes went wide for half a second. "Uh, cause I'm your friend. You know, whatever you call…this." She lowered her eyes, blinking. It was enough to make him smile, despite her frustrating persistence. She approached him again, standing at the foot of the bed.

"I came here with something important to tell you, so can you just spill so I can get to it?"

"If it's important that means it can't wait. So I think you should be the one spilling first, darling." He leaned back on his arms, waiting for her to speak. Not that he thought it would be so easy.

"Oh no. Uh-uh. You're talking first, buddy. I asked you first. You talk first. Then I'll tell you what I have to say."

"You drive a hard bargain, love."

"Well, that's the deal. Take it or I leave."

The problem wasn't so much that he had to tell her everything, but it was where he should start. There were so many things running through his mind, driving him to drink, that it was hard to find the ones that would appease Emma's curiosity. Cora…

He was an idiot. Maybe this was the complete worst decision he had ever made. But what other choice was there? He needed Emma. He needed her like air. God, if he had to give her up he'd have nothing good to hold on to. He knew it right then. That she was the only anchor he had to reason. If that connection broke he'd drift so far he'd never return.

His eyes were dark, but he would not be a coward now. He owed her an explanation because he now saw no way around it. There was no argument that he would be keeping Cora's plans secret to keep Emma safe. It was now for her safety that he had to tell her.

"If I speak, you must promise not to interrupt."

Emma nodded, sensing the severity of his tone.

"No, Emma, I need to hear the words."

She sighed, about to protest before agreeing. "I promise I won't interrupt."

Smiling was increasingly easy around her. He sought to erase his before continuing. "I had mentioned that I was omitting pieces of information about Cora. Which I had to do until I was sure that it was in your best interest to share. Truly, I did not want to provide you with information that would endanger you." She was guarded, sensing that he was about to admit some horrible betrayal. And in a way he was about to admit that, but it wasn't a betrayal toward Emma. "Now, I see no benefit for either of us if I keep silent." He paused, but Emma held to her promise and she didn't speak. "Her plan was to use me to get to you."

Emma opened her mouth and he had expected it, but she closed it fiercely before speaking. His lips quirked into an unwelcome smile at the predictable reaction.

"I agreed to it only to keep her appeased until I could figure out a better option. If I had declined she would have killed me and found someone else to do it."

"So your—" Emma snapped her jaw closed again. She was getting angry. Seething.

"Believe me when I say that she would have found someone else and someone with much less interest in your well-being. And at the time her offer was tempting enough to sway my decision. Revenge is—" He paused when Emma rolled her eyes and he fought a chuckle, it was really not a time to laugh. "You roll your eyes, but tell me the last time you've spent three hundred years plotting for a goal you now know you might never achieve. Yes. We'll see how easily you let it go."

She pursed her lips.

"As I was saying, at the time I had accepted the offer as both a means to keep you out of harm's way and to possibly get what I wanted out of the deal. Never did I intend to actually betray you to her." She wasn't looking at him so he stood up and found her eyes. "Emma. Look at me." She did, but hesitantly. "Do you see any deception in my eyes? Betraying you to Cora was never an option. I don't always act heroic, but I was not about to reward any small amount of faith in me with disloyalty."

She did search his eyes and he knew she had found no reason to doubt him when she stubbornly looked away again. Still, she did not speak.

"That being said, I still had every intention of doing what I had to." Here was the hard part. "Or at least, I did have every intention. That, it would seem, is no longer an option available to me."

Now he wanted her to interrupt him, but she held firm. He decided to skip the next part of his speech.

"Cora's plan is to get her daughter back. She knows that your son is the way to get that, but her intention is not to harm the boy." He said the last sentence quickly, sensing that Emma would leave without a second thought if she thought that Henry was in danger. "It is not Henry she is hoping to hurt. It's you. She means to kill you and remove the threat of you from Regina's life. Which is why I could no longer risk not telling you."

She was pleading with her eyes and he finally nodded.

"You can speak now."

"Is that everything? Everything you know of her plans?" Emma rushed through the words, coming up a bit breathless as she finished.

"I know that her plans for you involve the…" He swallowed the words before speaking. "She means to find the dagger that would control the Dark One. No doubt she plans to use him to kill you."

"Dark One…?"

Again, she was going to make him say it. "Rumpelstiltskin. His powers derive from a dagger. With that dagger he can both be killed or controlled."

"And that's everything?"

"Everything that I know." He replied.

Emma nodded and started to think. She chewed on the end of her thumb as she paced. "And you don't know where she is?"

"She hasn't mentioned. If I asked, she would have been suspicious."

"Great. Perfect effing timing." Emma hissed under her breath.

His eyes were low, looking at her boots as she paced. "We need a plan."

Emma halted in place. "Wait, we?"

He did not look up, "Aye. We."

"What…why should I…" She stopped when she realized there was no reason not to let him help. He had been completely honest with her and when she spoke next her voice was softer. "I do nothing until you answer one more question. Why?"

He knew exactly which 'why' she meant. "Why what?"

"Don't plan dumb. Why the change of heart? Why would you suddenly give up this…revenge kick after all that time? You're claiming it's so hard to let it go? Then why do it now? Cause you realize that helping me is not going to get you your revenge."

He stared hard at her. "It's not important why. I've chosen to help you."

"Oh, it most definitely is important. You tell me, right now, why you decided to help me or I'm done."

He finally looked up and met her eyes, which was a mistake. "There is no reason—"

"Bull shit."

"Why is it that you feel you have to know everything? Do you question why those dwarves follow you? Or the wolf girl?" He was yelling now, stepping into her face.

"No, but they haven't given me a reason to question them. Regardless of why, you _were_ working for Cora. If you're switching sides now the reason has everything to do with it."

"How would the reason change the outcome?"

She was toe to toe with him, standing to her full height and meeting his glare with her own. "Because change can only go so far depending on the reason."

"I'm not going back to Cora. I've decided to help you and I'm not changing my mind."

"Tell. Me. Why."

They were staring into each other. Noses nearly touching. Breaths heavy and full of malice.

"You have three seconds." She whispered.

He ground his teeth.

"One."

He briefly considered kissing her.

"Two."

He cursed her stubborn existence.

"Three."

"You."

Emma blinked. She frowned, lowering her stance a few inches. "What?"

"My answer."

"Me?" She paused, shaking her head. "Me."

He watched her face darkly, studying the play of emotions across it.

"Wait." She looked back into his eyes. "Are you saying you're…"

"I'm saying that when it came down to a choice. You or the dagger and finally obtaining my retribution on Rumpelstiltskin. I chose you." True love. Had the real meaning behind those words been present at the start things might have ended differently.

In the end they hadn't needed to say anything more. The subject melted between them and they both came away different. Their dynamic was different. In the space of a few seconds they had shifted from lovers to partners. Building toward trust, working toward a relationship with someone, that could take years or days. The actual moment when it happens, that moment lasts only an instant. And this was theirs.

"I'm going away." Emma broke the quiet, looking up at him. They were sitting on the bed now, their shoulders touching. "I owe Gold a favor. I made a deal…"

"Then you break it." He replied. "Nothing good comes from deals made with him. I've proof of that." He raised his left arm.

"I know, but I can't go back on it." She licked her lips. "He's looking for his son. Henry and I are going to help him look. He thinks he knows where he is. It won't take long."

"I'm to stay behind, then."

"You can't come. He'll never allow it." She countered.

"What of his attacking you? He did destroy public property and if I had to endure prison than he should, too."

Emma smiled with a shrug. "Can't exactly hold him in our prisons if he doesn't want to be, can we? And besides, things…things've been working a bit differently here lately. I can hardly uphold all the natural laws of the state if there's no clauses or notes about involving magic. He fixed Granny's diner. He didn't actually hurt me and he was aiming for you. As far as everyone's concerned, that's not really a cause to start a war with Rumpelstiltskin." She sighed and then continued. "So I have to leave. He's not going to let anything happen to me while I'm gone. He gave his word. At the very least, I believe that much."

He may not like it, but the only way out would be to cause a whole mess of trouble for Emma and the town in general. So he agreed and she would leave, but not before they had decided on a few things. "Then what's the plan?"

* * *

**A/N: So, I am super excited about this new dynamic between them. From now on it will be TEAM Killian and Emma. Don't worry, their banter won't suffer for it. I was inspired by this idea I had for the end scene, or penultimate scene, and I decided to write to that big scene. I really want to get both of them to a certain place before I bring this to a close. I know he moved kind of fast here, but it's a couple of days later from last chapter and I didn't want to linger on his decision process. Anyway, thanks for reading. More to come soon and it's going to be moving fast from here. Thank you to the wonderful reviews! You guys make my day and this is the first time I've had a story top one hundred reviews. That's why I can't abandon this fic here. I want to finish it for all the people that follow the story and who enjoy reading it. So for you guys, I will finish this. I will. ^_^**


	13. While Emma is in New York

**A/N: So I know I hinted at backstory and such? Yeah, I sort of forgot about that and this story isn't really giving me room for it. I might make it a separate story if I deem it good enough to write out. But yeah, thank you to all the reviewers! Hope you enjoy the chapter. I'm trying to move things along. Wove some more canon scenes into this. Enjoy.**

**Part Thirteen  
While Emma is in New York…**

"Believe it." Killian wasn't smiling. "You were there. You heard her." His voice was bored, droll, it was the tone he saved specifically for any interaction involving Cora.

The witch's lips were a thin line as she approached. With her hair down and her Storybrooke ensemble, he found her less formidable. But she was angry, he could see that much.

"What did you do?"

"I assure you, it was nothing I did. Women are fickle creatures." He shrugged and he watched her from the corner of his eye. She was pacing, which was never a good sign.

"You sabotaged this." She approached him, her tone threatening. Her stance offensive. She was going to attack. But Killian scoffed at the insinuation all the same.

"And why would I do that?" He didn't give her a chance to answer. "If you're suggesting I did something to influence the Swan girl's decision to leave, then you must think I'm quite the idiot."

"Not an idiot, no. But love can make people do foolish things. Things not in their best interest. Take your vendetta on the Dark One."

He glared at her, eyes narrowed. "I ask you, do I ever act where there is no room to gain? If this was my doing I'd have lost her _and_ my alliance with you. Which would leave me without an ally and make my life a whole mess more difficult, so please don't insinuate that I'd be so reckless with my own well-being."

"You may be right about that, but you still haven't provided the use you can be to me now. I'm not one for keeping leftovers." There was that cunning smile. The one she reserved when she thought she was being particularly devious. The one she used when she thought she had the upper hand. Very well. She could think all she wanted.

He licked his lips and then smirked. "You mentioned something about a map?"

"I might have."

"Well, as it happens, I'm quite good with maps. Why don't you let me have a look and see what I can gather?"

Cora paused. They were on the deck of his ship. His fight with Emma had just been on public display for the whole town and Cora had wasted no time in confronting him on it.

* * *

"_Leave me alone, Hook." Emma's eyes had been wide and hurt. "I thought this could work. I gave it a shot. But Henry…he'd never understand. I have a lot going on right now and this…this is just too much. I don't have time. I don't have the energy. I don't have anything and I just need you to go." She sniffed and he could see her fighting back tears._

_Killian glared at her. "You are the one who kissed me. _You_ woke _me_, Swan. I didn't ask for it. Does that mean anything to you now?"  
_

_Emma shook her head. "I know it should, but…it doesn't. I don't…I can't do this, okay? I'm sorry. I didn't mean to lead you on, but it's over."_

"_I see. So you're going to run? Take the easy way out? Never mind that you have your son to go back to and I'm left with nothing. You know that this means the Crocodile is fair game? I stayed my hand for _your_ benefit, but I'll not be sitting idly by while he still draws breath. This town will suffer for it, if that be the case. I'll stop at nothing."_

"_Then I guess we're going to have to be on different sides from now on. My focus is Henry. Henry needs me. And we're leaving anyway."_

_She turned on the dock and started to leave. And it took everything he had not to grin as his eyes followed the defiant sway of her hips. It was very well played. The tears? He had almost believed it. Even though they were trying to act as if they hated each other, it was taking a good amount of effort not to run after her. He settled for the view as she kept walking and Killian felt pretty confident that Cora had been watching._

* * *

Cora had finally agreed to bring him to Regina. The woman's house was…well, to each his own. Regina was sitting at a table when they entered and she seemed surprised, not happily.

"Ah, Regina. It's been a—"

"What is he doing here?" Regina turned on Cora after setting a scathing look over him. "Mother?"

"Relax, dear. He's going to help us." Cora soothed and Killian rolled his eyes. These two.

Regina didn't seem convinced as she looked back to Killian. "And what of his task distracting Swan?"

"He failed." Cora replied simply.

"Oi. I've no control over Swan's actions. That woman does as she pleases." He proceeded to follow them into a room of sofas and more of Regina's odious decorating.

"Which is why we needed you to control her." Regina retorted. "I had hoped that you'd be up to the task of taming of her. Neverland leave you a bit rusty, Captain?" She bit the word 'Captain' with disdain and smiled.

"Regina, don't waste your time on him. His incompetence won't go unpunished. Now, come, let's get that map so he can prove that he's not entirely worthless."

Killian paused in the doorway, ignoring the drawn out stare of Regina turning to a book shelf. "Punished?"

"Are you sure we can trust him, Mother?" Regina held a paper to her chest as he crossed the room to Cora. She eyed Killian with suspicion.

"It hardly matters, dear." Regina's head snapped to her mother and the two shared a look before Regina was smiling again. Not exactly encouraging, but there wasn't much he could do about it. Crossing back to him Regina handed Killian the paper in her hands. "This is what we found in Belle's library. It appears to be mostly gibberish, but we believe there's a map in there somewhere." She gave a half shrug as he looked it over.

"This is most assuredly not gibberish. Very _very_ clever Crocodile." He was grinning and it occurred to Killian that he held the key to Rumpelstiltskin's undoing. The dagger was to be found in this map. It would have been so easy…but he was here with a purpose. Blinking he pushed any thoughts of Rumpelstiltskin aside. "It's coded. I can crack it. If you have the right materials."

"What materials? What do you need?" Regina asked, frowning.

"You say you found these in the library?" He asked and she nodded. "Then that's what I need. So. Ladies. After you." He stood back from the door, the paper folded in his hand. Cora stood up and Regina followed her out, but not before plucking the coded map from Killian's hand.

Once inside the library Killian organized the maps he'd gathered of Storybrooke and began to study the patterns until he had pinpointed the location of the dagger. He set his finger on the spot. "Here is where you'll find the Dark One's dagger."

"Very good. You've done something right." Cora smiled over the map and Killian held his tongue. "Come, Regina. We'll take it from here."

Killian turned. "Wait. You promised me—" Cora didn't hesitate in launching him backward, he could feel books hitting the back of his legs but he'd been dazed.

"The dagger is much too valuable to be wasted on you." Cora took her daughter and left him, the map in her hands.

Chancing movement, Killian rose to his knees. In actual fact, Cora had done him a favor. Much easier to make his surprise at her betrayal believable when she hadn't given him the chance to act on it. Although it hurt physically more than the alternative, he was glad that she had bought his panic. They may have gotten away with the map, but since neither of them could read one it wouldn't be much good to them. Not when he had pointed them in the wrong direction. Thankfully, he had a pretty good memory when it came to atlases and charts and he could find the right location provided he find another map of the town.

He stood and straightened his coat, not bothering with the books that he had knocked over. It was time to make a house call.

_Knock. Knock. Kno-_

"Hook."

Killian spoke through clenched teeth. "David." The silence between them was tangible. The man showed no sign of allowing Killian to enter nor did he tell him to leave. "Emma did tell you I was coming."

"She might have said something to that effect." David said sternly.

Protective fathers. Killian would never understand it. "Then she'd have told you I'm here at her bidding. If you'll kindly allow me in I have some information you might want to hear."

"David? Who's at the door?" Mary Margret stepped forward and then recognized Hook in the doorway. "Oh. Dear, you can step away from the door now." She was at David's side, a hand on his arm.

"I don't see why we have to do this in our home. I can just as easily hear him at the police station." David argued and Mary Margret rolled her eyes.

"Wouldn't be the wisest choice considering I'm to be keeping my association with you secret." Killian countered. "Had to sneak my way into the building as it is. Now, every second I'm out here is a second closer to someone noticing my presence and if word travels back to Cora, which it will it always does, then I'll be out of a job."

David was about to say something when Mary Margret shook her head and gently coaxed him away from the door. Killian remained in the hall until she returned.

Heaving a sigh that had her shoulders falling, she gave him a warm smile. "Hook. Why don't you come in?" She gestured with her arm and let the door swing open before closing it behind him. David was sitting at the table arms crossed, and not at all happy.

Oh good. He'd made a friend. Mary Margret shuffled around him, offering a chair and then rushing to the kitchen. "Can I offer you something to drink?"

Killian's eyes found David and he tried so hard to keep his mouth shut. But in the end his eyes had betrayed him as he stared at Charming and replied with, "That would be lovely, darling."

Mary Margret's eyes went straight to her husband as she began to pour some lemonade. David's jaw locked into place and he seemed determined not to let the pirate goad him.

"Here you are." She set the cup on the table with a napkin and then sat between the two men seated at either end of the table. Clearing her throat she turned to Killian as he took a sip of the drink, swallowing, looking at the glass, and then setting it down.

"So. What exactly are you here to tell us?"

"You'll know that Cora and her daughter seek the Dark One's dagger?"

"Yes, yes, Emma mentioned that." Mary Margret stared at the table, her fingers interlaced in front of her. "She, uh, she said the plan was to use it against her? To get Rumpelstiltskin to…to kill her so that Regina can get to Henry?"

"Aye. That is the intent. Although, I would not count that as their only goal. There's many things a woman like Cora could want with the dagger. It is a powerful tool that I've no doubt she's fully prepared to wield."

Mary Margret nodded. "Then we have to stop her from getting it."

"That is the general idea." He smirked and his situation was not lost on him. Going to Emma's parents, especially without her present, was the height of unconventional to him. It suggested commitment on a level he'd never thought he'd be willing to make. Yet here he was. "Cora came to me about a map that they had found in the library. Neither of them could decipher its meaning so I helped them." When Mary Margret's jaw fell open and David's arms came uncrossed, Killian added quickly. "In the wrong direction. They took the map with them, but I've marked the wrong location. They won't be finding a buried dagger anytime soon."

Mary Margret swallowed and set her hand on David's. "But you know where it is?"

"I can recall the location on the particular map we had been using. As I'm not familiar with this land, I could not sit here and tell you where. I would need another map."

"Okay." Mary Margret sighed. "Do we have another one?" She turned to her husband.

"Only one that I can think of." He said, now looking at Mary Margret instead of glaring at Killian. "In the sheriff's station."

* * *

It had already been hinted that going to the station was not the wisest move. Especially when Killian had the distinct ability to stand out in a crowd. Especially in Storybrooke. This had led to a bit of a discussion involving the best ways to go about walking him down there.

"We could disguise you." Mary Margret had the end of her thumb in her mouth, a nervous twitch that distinctly reminded him of Emma. "David has some clothes that I'm sure would fit. We get a hat over your head and then hide the hand…we can give you longer sleeves and…"

"I don't think dressing him up is going to help any." David sighed.

"Okay, then what do you suggest?" She retorted crisply.

"Well, the problem isn't him being seen with us. It's people thinking we're together. Friendly." David said and Mary Margret nodded along. "I say we cuff him and make like it's an arrest. Don't think anyone in this town'll have a hard time with that one." David smirked.

Killian was not anxious to be chained again. The first few times he'd at least had the pleasure of Emma, but somehow the same situation when implemented by her father lost all its appeal. However, the man did raise a fair point. It was the easiest most direct way that provided the least amount of suspicion. Licking his lips he sighed before holding out his wrists.

"Let's get on with it then." He huffed and David stepped forward, drawing a pair of handcuffs from his belt. Killian pulled away just as he reached for his wrist. "We get one thing clear now. As soon as we are safely inside the station, I am to be released."

David smirked. "You sound nervous. And here I thought you'd be used to it by now." For once, the man seemed happy.

Killian let out a breath through his nose and he just _could not_ stop himself. "Oh yes, I'm well used to _restraints_," He leaned into his words, "but there's an entirely different effect when Emma's the one doing the restraining."

David's smirk fell in an instant. He paused and Killian could see the tensing of muscles that suggested David was ready to attack him. The man's jaw locked in place and Killian considered being sorry for saying it, for instigating. But he really wasn't.

"Okay. Enough. The both of you." Mary Margret put a hand between them. She held out a hand to David who was locked in a stare with Killian. "Give me those, I'll do it."

There was no stopping it. His lopsided grin spread all the way to his eyes as he extended his wrists in Mary Margret's direction. Not once did Killian look away and David seethed as Mary Margret secured his wrist. However, she had also made sure to clamp them as tight as they would go and his grin broke as he winced.

"There. That should hold." Then she held out her hand. "Hook."

"Yes?"

"No, give me the hook. We wouldn't arrest you with you still wearing it. So hand it over." She had moved past her polite acceptance. He really should have kept his mouth shut.

He did as he was bid, but not willingly. His mood had soured and whatever fun he had found in baiting David was mostly gone. David had made sure to get a few digs in on the walk to the station. He wasn't exactly gentle when pushing Killian along. His hand had latched onto Killian's shoulder and dug in as he dragged him into the station. Mary Margret hadn't said a word in Killian's defense. In fact, she seemed to be enjoying herself. Once inside, Killian was thrown forward and he just managed to get his footing and keep from falling. Mary Margret was the one to unlock him and then she returned the hook as well.

"Now. Where is this map?"

David pointed to one of the walls where a map of the town was pinned. There were scattered pins of papers around the edges and some writing in places, but Killian could recognize the shapes and layout from the map in the library. He ran his eyes over it, hand out as he brought up the coded directions in his memory.

"Here is where I sent Cora." His finger hit a spot in the woods and then he traced a line and halted. "This is where it is actually buried." He tapped the spot once and then turned around. "I suggest you move quickly before Cora realizes that I have steered her wrong."

"About that." David started. "Why so concerned about her finding you with us if she'll only figure it out once she realizes she's digging in the wrong place?"

"My steering Cora in the wrong direction would not mean I am on your side. Not to her. I can easily explain that I had sensed her inevitable betrayal and sought to secure my position with her by tricking her. Trust me. She'll understand. It was Emma's plan that I remain on Cora's side until she returned."

"Then that's the plan we'll stick with." Mary Margret said quickly, before David could retort. "I'm willing to trust her judgment on this one."

"Well, I'm still skeptical." David said under his breath.

Mary Margret was about to respond when her pocket began ringing. She reached down and then looked up quickly. "It's Emma." She hit a button and put a finger to her other ear. "Hello? I-hold-wha-slow down. Emma, take a breath. What's happened? Oh. I…" Mary Margret glanced up at the worried faces and then stepped backward, holding a finger up to them as she retreated from the room. "You mean he's—"

Killian was confused and he got the sense that something was wrong. "She's talking to Emma?"

"What?" David seemed to forget he was there. "Oh. Yeah. It's a cell phone. Long story."

"Then that is actually Emma saying that there is something wrong?"

"I suppose. I'm just as clueless as you on this one. I couldn't hear what they were say—Hook where are you going?"

Killian was already following after Mary Margret. "It'll be that slimy Crocodile, Rumpelstiltskin. He no doubt betrayed her as I had said he would." He was moving again, mumbling. "I should have insisted that she stay behind."

"Whoa." David grabbed his arm and Killian shook him off instantly, but stopped walking. "Look, it's upsetting. I get it. But we don't move until we find out what is actually going on. Mary Margret is talking to her now. If it was dangerous she would not have left the room without telling me." David let out a breath and set his hands on his hips.

Killian was antsy as he waited. Waiting. Such an arduous task. David was leaning on a desk, arms crossed. His eyes followed Killian's pacing and he finally spoke. "All right, all ready. You're making me dizzy. Just…just take a seat."

"I'd rather stand, thank you." Killian huffed. David was way too casual.

"Fine. Stand. But could you stop with the pacing?"

"Do even understand the situation she is in?" Killian did stop pacing and he fixed David with an intent stare. "The danger she is facing?"

"Of course I know."

"Then you know that Rumpelstiltskin is not to be trusted? That association with him only leads to death and misery?"

David seemed to be taking offense, but Killian was beyond caring. "Do you think you're the only one from our world with a grudge against him? Half this town wouldn't bat an eye if the man never came back, hell I don't think anyone would, now that you've gotten your hands on Belle."

Killian set his jaw.

"So stop acting like you're the only one who understands what's at stake here. I know. She's _my_ daughter. All right? I've seen firsthand what Gold is capable of and I am worried about her. But I also know that Emma's a strong girl. She can handle herself."

Killian set his eyes on the floor. It was not his faith in Emma's abilities that had him so shaken. What David didn't, couldn't, understand was that Emma was currently with the man that had ripped out the heart of the last woman Killian had loved. Emma was strong, yes, and Gold might not be able to rip out her heart, but that didn't mean he couldn't hurt her. He should never have agreed to her leaving. He should have insisted that she stay. Now it might be too late. What the hell was taking Mary Margret so long?

David wasn't glaring any longer and Killian hadn't noticed him approach. David let out a sigh, hands in his pockets. "Look. I'm going to level with you here, I don't like you." Off to a good start. "Back home, you had a reputation. From what Snow has told me, you were helping Cora back in our world. You've got a bad attitude and you're entirely too mouthy for your own good. So as much as you might not like it, I've a pretty strong right to not like you associating with my daughter."

Killian didn't speak. So far, David hadn't said anything that wasn't true.

"However." David paused before continuing. "However, Emma seems to trust you. Or, at least, she seems to think you're not entirely the villain you make yourself out to be. As much as I don't agree with her, that has to mean something. Emma's not an idiot. Which is why I've been holding back." Killian almost scoffed openly, but he restrained himself. If this was David holding back disdain then he did not want to see David had Emma decided to hate him. "And…and from what I can see, you at least care about her. So I'm going to offer you a truce." David held out his hand. "You lay off the comments toward my wife and I'll ease up."

Killian looked at his hand and debated. Taking it was another step down this daunting trail of commitment and responsibility. It was another step that he knew he would have to make to keep Emma, but that went against his instincts. He decided to accept the gesture and shook David's hand.

David didn't release him, but pulled his hand closer, tugging on it. "And if you even think about hurting her Rumpelstiltskin will be the least of your problems." He released him and Killian took a step back. He couldn't fault David; the man had been nothing but honest and sincere. He was protective of Emma. Which Killian was beginning to understand. But it still unsettled him. The implications. It had his mind straying to terrifying prospects and he was beginning to worry that Mary Margret still hadn't returned when she finally emerged from the hallway.

She didn't look happy, but there was no urgency in her movements either. David ran to her.

"What is it? What's happened? Is Emma okay?"

"Yeah, Emma's fine. They, uh, they found Gold's son." She said as if this was the most confusing idea she could have. She took David's arm. "And he's Henry's father."

"What?"

"Gold's son. He's Henry's father." She repeated, still trying to grasp this herself.

* * *

**A/N: So this is the filler while Emma is in New York. She returns next chapter. Thank you for reading. ^_^**


	14. Hearts and Dreams

**A/N: I am so sorry for the lack of posting. I have serious hang-up when it comes to finishing stories I'm writing. But I do not want that to happen to this one. I am determined to finish it. But it means that I'm struggling a bit and I want to do it right or at the very least not have it absolutely suck. I've also had some issues where the cannon plot of the show is starting to make me over-think parts of my story. But again, I've set up a different chain of events so there is only so much room for the cannon plotline. Thank you to everyone following this and for the reviews, I really am so incredibly undeserving of all your nice comments. Anyway, there are some parts of this chapter that I like, but other parts...eh. So please enjoy.**

**FOURTEEN**

**Hearts and Dreams**

Above him lay the stars, bright and distant in a clean sky of navy and black. It was not the sky that Killian had come to know of Storybrooke, but it was one that he knew. He lay in a sea of grass and moss threaded in nostalgia of nights spent cradled by windy lullabies. So long ago…centuries since he had lay under the stars, fallen asleep in the grass…since he had been free enough to enjoy it. And with the serenity wove the loss. This was a scene from a time he where he was no longer welcome. Another facet of his past that wanted to shine in his memory but had been too smothered in dust and grime.

A breeze caressed his cheeks and even the scent of it brought him further into the dream. This could have been real. Even if he knew that it wasn't.

Content to let this vision play out, he waited. Counting stars as he settled his arms behind his head.

"It's pretty here."

He turned to the voice, startled. He had felt alone, but when he looked he could see her sitting just a few feet from him. Emma was cross legged in the grass, beaming a smile as she pulled on her shins. He knew her instantly, though her face was not the one he had seen leaving for New York. This was Emma without burden, without a past. This was the beauty that radiated from a heart untarnished. It was that part of her that shone in rare smiles and unshielded laughter. A part of her he had always known was there, just layered. Just buried. Here in this dream it shone for all the world to see. She rocked in place, still grinning.

"I said, it's pretty, huh?"

He was certain that if he had reached out to touch her he'd ruin the illusion. That his darkness would shadow her light. "Aye." He replied, but he was far from commenting on scenery. The smile she wore was real and unguarded. He'd never quite achieved to earn such a smile, not like this, but he was going to remedy that once he woke up.

Emma broke her stance as she stretched toward him and he nearly forgot to keep his distance. His reflex to reach out to her was quelled and he leaned away. Dreams were tricky things. Fragile. If you poked the wrong place, the image would ripple and shatter. Emma quirked her lips in an exaggerated frown.

"Where're you going, silly?"

"I'm not going anywhere, love." He assured her.

She wrinkled her nose at him. "'Kay…" She stuck out her hand and he stared at it with a tired smile. "What're you being so squeamish for?" She flipped her hand in front of him. "It ain't gonna hurt."

He licked his lips, glanced up at her stubbornly set jaw. "I'm not concerned about getting hurt—"

"Then what? Huh? Huh?" She stuck out her hands and began to crawl on her knees, coaxing him backward. "Scared cause I'm a _girl_? Scared my awesome'll rub off on you? Come on. Stop running and take my hand."

"Emma…you have to keep away, love. I don't want you to disappear." She stopped and in that frozen moment in their game of tag, he realized why she had turned this into a game. This unhurt, unbroken version of Emma was from so long ago…so far in her past. As this place held a time of his innocence, he was now seeing Emma's. And he saw so much of himself in her that he selfishly believed that it was meant to be. Kiss or no kiss he had never once believed that it'd work between them. He had seen their similarities but now he saw her as exactly what she was. The other half of a broken soul. The lighter better half of his darker, torn up soul.

"How do _you_ know I'll disappear?" She cocked her head, hands on her hips. "Maybe something good'll happen. Or even nothing. But you can't _know_ that it'll make me disappear."

"I don't know." He agreed. But he _did_ know his dreams too well to let them shift into nightmares without a fight. "But I've some pretty damning evidence."

"It is 'cause you're not glowing?" She asked with a downward tweek of her lips. He looked at himself and indeed, he wasn't glowing but rather looked as if some of the color had been sapped from him. His clothes and skin were cloudy and hazy. When he looked back up Emma was alight like a beacon against the night sky. For several seconds he could only blink and stare in awe. She didn't seem impressed.

"I think you're dumb." She huffed and crossed her arms.

"I'm being cautious. Nightmares have a nasty habit of hiding in dreams."

"But what if it's important?" She argued as she stared at her open hand. "What if you _have_ to touch my hand or that's what will make the nightmare?"

He was quiet for a second, before it occurred to him that this wasn't really Emma. His subconscious had done a convincing job of it, but in the end, it wasn't really her. "I've dealt with enough nightmares not to take that chance."

She threw her arms into the air with a huff. "You're…you're such a jerk idiot…I don't like you right now." She stuck out her tongue. Sitting back onto the grass she pursed her lips as she glared in his direction. "I'm going to have to try something else now. And it's your fault." Before he could respond he staggered sideways, a wrenching feeling spreading from his chest and knocking the wind out of him.

"Killian?" Emma stopped pouting and was watching him from her seat. "What happened?"

He caught his breath, shaking his head as the quick sting of pain dulled and eventually subsided. "I don't…" Dreams turning into nightmares. Though he didn't usually feel actual pain in dreams, not physical pain. But the thought was fleeting and quickly forgotten when his eyes fell back on Emma.

Her eyes had changed. They were no longer narrowed, but heavy. Her frown had slipped into a loose smirk and she seemed to be biting the inside of her cheek. She still radiated warmth that he could sense even from a distance. And whatever had just happened was abandoned by both as he sat upright.

Emma rose to her knees, peering down at him as she inched forward. And, unfortunately, he understood instantly what her new tactic was going to entail. And if anything was going to work…

She had already snuck up on him, leaning over his face, but not touching. Her hair fell over her shoulders that he only just realized were bare except for the very thin straps of her top. In an instant she had backed him into the ground, pinning him as she hovered over him with parted lips and dangerous eyes.

"You don't know that will happen." She whispered, letting her tongue drag over her teeth as she dipped lower, but still not making contact.

She was everywhere. All the heat from her body was tangible around him, crushing him. He closed his eyes, but Gods that only heightened her scent as it stirred into his veins. He _didn't_ know. He couldn't be certain. Just one kiss and maybe everything would remain okay.

He shook his head. If he touched her now this dream would have to become a nightmare. In this moment, she was just too pure, too wholesome for him to touch her.

"Killian…" She purred his name and smiled impishly. "…I really think…" Her breath fell along his neck and he winced. "…It'll be worth the risk." Without so much as grazing him she lifted her face level with his and waited. And there was only so much he could do when it was obviously her mission to touch him. Damn everything to bloody hell, but he really didn't have the will to stop himself. And in fact he was tearing into her mouth without much hesitation after that. His right hand curled behind her neck, he had expected immediate darkness. Emptiness. That she would morph into some horrible twisted creature of his own making. Her shrieks tormenting him for being so selfish. But that didn't happen. Instead Emma was parting her lips, leaning into him and raking her fingers down his shoulders.

When she finally lifted her head she was smiling. "See. I told you." She lifted his good hand and held it to her cheek. "See."

He had only seconds to register the glow traveling down his arm, following the light with his eyes as it revived all the color that had been washed from him before he was ripped into consciousness.

"Oh good, you're awake."

Killian blinked at his ceiling, his jaw clenched.

"Let's go. We've got work to do." Cora flicked her wrist and all the blankets and pillows vanished. She'd become increasingly spiteful since his misdirection with the map. And he was getting tired of seeing her face when he woke up. Unfortunately, locking the door didn't exactly keep her out. He hauled himself out of bed and began to put on his boots.

"You seem annoyed. Did I interrupt something?" She smirked knowingly as he stood up.

"What's so important, Cora?" His stare was piercing and he knew that he sounded disdainful. It was getting harder to keep the loathing from his voice.

He followed her onto the main deck where Regina was waiting. Apparently, his ship was just a free for all meeting place. Hell, why not get Rumpelstiltskin and three more witches, make it a party.

"Swan's returning." Cora said, her eyes intent. Fortunately, Emma's absence had made it easy to appear uninterested. He hadn't expected physical pain while she was gone, but there was a turning in his stomach that hadn't stopped since she'd left. It did not abate over time. And it did not put him in a good mood.

"How very good for you. What exactly do you want me to do about it?" He snapped.

"I am so glad you asked." Cora smiled and his eyes flew between her and Regina. Something was not right about that sentence. The way she had said it was too telling and suddenly he was on guard.

"You see," Regina continued in place of her mother. "I thought it would be an excellent idea if you were there to meet her when she arrived." Her ruby lips quirked into a smile.

Killian hesitated. "She won't want to see me. We're not exactly on speaking terms, or did you not notice?" Cora and Regina both stood between him and the gangplank. A strategic move. They were trying to corner him in. There was a knife in his boot, a precaution he had taken to once this whole charade had started. A knife was not going to be enough. He eyed the hilt of a sword stowed near some barrels by the mast. He made to lean against one of the barrels casually, aware that both of the witches were eyeing him sharply. Still, they didn't seem alarmed. This was typical of their conversations. Casual talking with polite civility while all the while planning how best to over-power, kill, out maneuver each other. Never take a liar's word at face value.

"Captain, do you really think we're that foolish?" Cora paced a few steps behind her daughter. Regina was going to be the body guard, an interesting move. But he still wanted to find out what their plan was for Emma before challenging them directly.

He gave her a charmingly crooked smile, acting nonchalant as picked at the end of his hook. "Cora, I doubt your intelligence as much as you'd doubt my resourcefulness."

"Yes. You do manage to keep going no matter how many angles you have to try. Three hundred years and you're still no closer to your goal than you were before. But your right, you've always managed to get yourself into the right positions." She laughed lightly before Regina was rolling her eyes.

"Enough, mother."

Cora narrowed her lips. "Fine. You're right. This has taken too much time anyway." A purple cloud enveloped her and Regina watched as the figure of her mother disappeared.

While they spoke, Killian had already grasped the hilt of sword, slowly sliding it from its sheath. He had just gotten the weapon free and was about to raise it when he halted. Cora's form had vanished and the body that replaced it left him frozen.

She shook out her shoulders, looking down over herself. "This should do the trick. What do you think, Captain?" Cora lifted her head and suddenly Killian was looking into his own eyes. Unlike a mirror, these did not reflect the horror of their owner, but were quite delighted.

"It'll never work." He said, his teeth clenched. "She'd never believe you're me." In the next second he was charging, grabbing Regina and twisting her so that her back was to him and the blade at her throat. "There we are, field's a bit more even now."

Cora was no longer smiling, which he took as a good sign. It means he had done something she hadn't anticipated. "What's your move, Hook? If you kill her then what'll stop me from going to Emma?"

His blood boiled hearing Emma's name come from Cora's lips so casually. "There are other options. For a start, you'll change back or," he brought up the arm that was coiled around Regina's shoulders, resting the tip of his hook against her cheek, "well, do I really have to spell it out for you?" He pressed into Regina's cheek and smirked when she flinched backward.

But Cora's smile returned. "You haven't given yourself any edge, you do realize that?"

He frowned, knowing that she had something else she was hiding from him. He fought to think of his next move, but Cora was already responding. She fished out a thudding object, red light escaping between her fingers. Killian stared at it, knowing what it was without having to ask. A small squeeze and the sword nearly fell from his hand. He winced and Regina snaked out of his grip. Realization came pouring into him all at once as he fell to his knees and the worst of it was that he couldn't do a damn thing to stop it. Cora had been standing over him while he slept. The pain from his dream. She'd taken his heart. She was now in control.

"There. That's better." Cora stepped next to her daughter. "Here. And remember, we might still need him alive." She handed the muscle to her daughter, trading hands with his free will with sickening ease.

Regina rubbed at her neck, shrugging her shoulders. "Of course."

"Now. I'm going to get the dagger back for us." Cora walked over to Killian. "You two have fun."

When she met his eyes he lashed out, cursing as his arm stopped mid swing. Regina held up his heart, whispering into her hand. "It'll never work, Cora." He said through his teeth, straining to bring down his arm and slash away that horrible smile. "She's never going to fall for it. Emma's not stupid. She'll see right through you and," He wanted to smile, but with the mixing of anger it turned into a grimace, "I've been on the receiving end of her wrath. I've no doubt that you're going to lose this one. My only regret is not being there to do it myself."

"If she does figure it out, then I'll have to resort to plan B. Really, there's not much your girlfriend can do to stop me. People have been trying for years, so you'll forgive me if I'm not overly concerned about one brat with a hero complex." Cora said and with a twirl she was leaving. He watched her retreating, watching himself saunter over to the gangplank. He started to run after her, but his legs stopped moving. Then she was gone and he wanted to scream. To break things. To run the sword at his feet straight through her chest, heart or no. But all he could do was stand.

"Well. Why don't we get comfortable while we're waiting, hm?" Regina waved her arms and then they were in her house. "Go ahead. Take a seat." He sat. "I don't suppose you're hungry?"

He could hear the whispered words in his brain before they were leaving his mouth. "No." Her magic may control his actions, but it didn't stop him from saying the most sarcastic 'no' he could muster.

"Oh, what a shame. Well then, I hope you won't mind waiting in here while I go get something for myself." Her smile was maddening. His body's lack of response was exasperating. He closed his eyes to the fury, but it only heightened the image of Cora using his appearance to trick Emma. The idea of it made him violent, but for once he had no way of lashing out. All he could do was sit and stew, simmering in his rage.

But he had to believe that Emma wouldn't fall for it. That she would know that it wasn't him. Or…or he could face the question that dissolved some of his anger into something far worse…because he had to ask himself: did Emma still not trust enough to recognize an imposter?

* * *

**A/N: Yay! You kept reading until the end. :) Seriously, thank you to everyone who reads this. The followers and reviewers and favorite...ers are the the lifeblood of this story. It's all for you guys that I keep going. Thank you. And until next time. Which hopefully won't take me a million years. :/  
**


	15. Emma's Return

**A/N: Look at that, another chapter so quickly. Hopefully I can keep up the momentum. Thank you for reading. Enjoy.**

**FIFTEEN  
Emma's Return**

Return trips were supposed to seem shorter. Once you know where you've been the way home usually appears to take less time. Her head pressed against the window of the car, Emma wished that had been the case. That she had not just suffered through the longest trip of her life and it had only lasted three hours.

"…And then we can go to Granny's. She makes the best burgers. All though, you know what? She kind of makes the only burgers…but still, they're awesome."

Four more miles. She only had to endure four more miles.

"Sounds like a plan." Neal was in the backseat with Henry. Talking. Bonding. And it was all her fault. She had drove Henry to him. She had lied. Hell, even if she wanted to forget Henry was making sure that she didn't. Now if Neal broke Henry's heart, which she still believed to be possible, it would also be her fault. Parenting needed a reset button. A do-over setting. Cause one little mistake and the next thing you know, you're as bad as Regina.

Gold hadn't spoken much either. Two hands on the wheel, eyes straight ahead. He must have been happy, at least in part, that Neal was coming back with them. Even if only for a few days. Neal had obligations in New York, which Emma found refreshing. She was happy for him. Glad he had built a life for himself, a real one. But the situation still made her uneasy. It was hard to look at Neal's face when all of her memories of it were so tainted. Still, she had to give him a chance, for Henry's sake. And while Gold seemed completely indifferent to his son's return, Emma had at least thought he'd be more receptive to being Henry's grandfather. That he might be…happy? Maybe? Instead he seemed put off. She wasn't sure what to make of it yet, but she didn't like it. Related or not, she didn't fully trust Gold. Not where it counted. In her mind, his family status gained him a select amount of privileges with her, but even those were few.

"We're almost there." Henry leaned up to the window, pressing his hands to the glass.

About fucking time.

Once inside the town's limits Emma began to get restless. She just wanted out of that car. She wanted to be home, in her bed, in her apartment. With Mary Margret and David waiting for her…And funnily enough, it was the first time she had ever had some to wait for her return. The first time there were people to miss her. And, she began to consider with a smile, it wouldn't just be her parents that missed her…

"Okay, so he's staying with us right?" Henry approached her after Gold had parked. Emma had been looking up at the window she knew led to the apartment wistfully. Her eyes went wide when she finally registered the question and instantly realized she would have to disappoint him.

"Oh. I-I don't think that's such a good idea, Henry…"

"Why not? I'm sure Mary Margret and David won't mind." He said quickly.

"Kid, we barely have enough room for the four of us. We…there's really not enough room…" _And it's weird and I can't even begin to explain how complicated that would be because you're eleven._

"Hey, Henry." Neal stepped to Henry's side and kneeled down. "I'm not here to make waves, kay? It'll be best for everyone if I get a room for myself. Give everyone a bit of space."

"But…"

"Listen, what'd you say we go get one of those burgers later? Yeah? I'll just, uh, let you and your mom settle in while I go get my room situation sorted and then I'll meet you there. Two hours?" Neal gave him a smile and Henry nodded. Dodging around Emma, Henry headed straight for the front door and headed inside. Neal stood up as Henry left, glancing at Emma.

"Thanks." She said lightly, eyes on the door.

"Yeah, no problem."

Emma rotated her shoulders and picked up her bag. "Okay, I guess we'll meet you in two hours."

"We?"

"Neal." She met his eyes sincerely. "Look, I appreciate what you're doing. It means a lot to him. But you can't…I can't just let you go taking him around town when you've only known him for a day. He's only eleven. I'll give you space, but I can't just go sending him off when I'm not sure if you—"

"If I'll stick around?"

"Come on. You can't hold that against me. I mean, whatever your reasons were, I can't go and let Henry suffer through something like that. Not when I know how it can hurt." She let out a breath. "I believe you've got his best interest at heart, but what's to say that….that Pinocchio won't swoop in and convince you to leave again? You've made it very clear how you feel about being…_here_-in Stroybrooke and I just can't take any risks with this one. I need to be cautious. For Henry's sake."

He let out a breath. "'Kay. Yeah, I mean, I understand and everything." He looked at her with a frown. "But I'm not here to hurt him. I do have to go back in a few days, but I'm not leaving him. I want to do this the right way. That means—that means making sure we're on the same page. You've been with him longer, I'm not gonna undermine that. I just want a chance with him."

"Which you're getting. But Neal," She set her hands in her pockets. "You only get one." She nodded once and then motioned for the door. "We'll see you in two hours."

The trip had taken three days, only two nights, and she felt like it lasted two months. She felt drained, substantially eaten away and as she went to open the door she planned to take a small breather in the front hall to collect herself. Her fingertips pressed at her temples and she closed her eyes to everything.

"Welcome back, darling."

Emma jumped before looking up to see Killian leaning against the stairwell. She smiled between breathes, her eyes fluttering. "You nearly gave me a heart attack."

"My apologies, love. Never meant to startle you."

She shook her head, stepping closer. She didn't know when it had become natural to be near each other, physically, while they talked. "You know," She smirked, "You're not really supposed to be here. Can't have Witch One and Witch Two seeing you with me or they'll think something's up." Her eyebrows rose and she found herself wondering why he hadn't made to touch her yet. Not a move to uncross his arms as he eyed her.

He smirked and her heart felt lighter. There was something comforting in the subconscious recognition of simple idiosyncrasies. "No, we certainly wouldn't want that. But I thought I'd risk it to see you."

"Oh yeah?" She raised an eyebrow, but he still hadn't made the move to kiss her and she was tired of waiting for it. She closed the space between them in a few easy strides, hands in her back pockets. Emma lifted her head and leaned in, but he turned so that her lips grazed his cheek and she felt his mouth hover above her ear.

"Best to wait for privacy," as his breath hit her skin her body tensed. "Maybe upstairs?"

Emma was frowning, her shoulders rigid. His cheek grazed hers as he pulled back, smiling down at her. And she might have caught his eyes if she hadn't been so distracted by the chills creeping up her spine.

"You can't come up. Henry's up there." Not to mention her parents. "Speaking of, they'll start to wonder where I am."

He set his jaw, his lips forming a hard line. "There is something I have to discuss with you. About Cora. It's rather pressing or I wouldn't have risked meeting you." His voice made her fidget, his tone suddenly serious. She thought he had risked being there so he could see her. Not that she blamed him for needing to tell her something important, but it had been nice when it was just because. "Okay. What is it?"

Killian took her hand with his right, leaning close intently. "Not here. Longer we're in the open the more chance there is of someone finding us out."

"Oh, uh…yeah. Right." She nodded. "Well, then, I guess you should come up." She began to climb the stairs and his fingers slipped from her hand. Her pace began to slow and when she stopped completely he sent her a curious smile.

"Everything all right, love?"

Emma wasn't sure how to answer that question. She couldn't pin-point anything being particularly wrong. She glanced over her shoulder, sensing eyes seeking her out, but there was no one there. Her eyes narrowed and the feeling only intensified. She paused mid-step again and then felt a weight on her shoulder, looking up to see Killian a step above her.

"Emma. If there's something wrong, tell me. I'm getting worried, love."

She shook her head. "No…it's—I'm sure it's nothing." She ran her thumb over her forehead, her attention focused on her surroundings. Finally, she smiled, her eyes rising to meet his and then that chill went down her spine. Was it him making her feel paranoid?

"What is it?" He asked with a lopsided smile. She had been staring at him and she had to shake her head. That ease she felt with him, the natural connection, nothing was clicking for her now. She remembered perfectly how easy it was for the sound of his voice to excite her, to twist her nerves, and do horrible things to her heart. This...what she felt now was nothing like that. The idea of him touching her was suddenly alien. For a split second she was terrified. The weight of his arm at her shoulder was making her uncomfortable and she shrugged away. Then she painted a smile on her lips. "Forget it. Just tired from the trip. My head's playing tricks on me or something."

This is exactly what she had feared. A few days and now the thrill of it was gone. God, could she be more fickle? Of course it had been a physical thing. Unfounded in real emotion. There had to be some reason why she couldn't look him in the eye. When his touch had sent a wave of green lights over her senses before, they were now hitting the brakes. She chewed on her lip, her eyes out of focus as the dread of what it all meant hit her. She'd have to tell him. Shit, but he had to know all ready. Open book, blah blah blah. Shit. She wished that he didn't always read her so easily.

Emma glanced upward, expecting to have to explain herself but he was at the top of the stairs waiting by her door. She took the last few steps cautiously.

"Hook?"

"Yes, love?"

Emma sucked in a breath, half in relief half to keep her face straight. She crossed to her door, putting herself between him and it. Defensive. "You know, when I think about it, it's probably best if you tell me what you have to say right here."

He laughed lightly, "I really don't think that's a good plan. Anyone walking by could hear what I have to say and it's in everyone's best interest that they don't."

She licked her lips, her mind racing. She had to keep him out of the house. Because this was _not_ Killian. Killian would have kissed her, touched her. Killian would known what she was thinking. Killian would have been pissed if she had started calling him 'Hook' again. Killian would not be so intent on getting into her apartment. She had half a second to feel ashamed for ever thinking anything else.

Emma tried to guard the door without looking like a guard. "Then we can talk on your ship later. That'll be even more private." She swallowed, resolving herself before continuing. "And then we can be completely alone. See what happens. I've been away for three days, after all. I missed you." Groan, this was like swallowing ipecac. But if she wanted to keep her suspicion hidden then adding in the layer of sexuality was necessary.

Hook gave her a smirk and now she could see what was wrong with it. The time apart _had_ affected her judgment. She had been so eager for it before, she hadn't noticed that it didn't match his eyes. Right then she felt truly stupid for falling for it for so long. Her failings had gotten the better of her. She hadn't trusted and gave in way too easily to doubt. So she was in sore need of a little personal redemption at the moment.

He was about to speak when she felt the door fall out from behind her.

"Emma there you are—Hook?" Mary Margret blinked, but smiled warmly. "We hadn't expected to see you."

Emma could hear the blood in her veins. Henry was just inside that apartment. Hook made to move past her, but she held up an arm, stopping him dead. When he looked down at her she turned it into a sideways embrace, snuggling up to his side. Mary Margret watched the gesture, an eyebrow raised. Then her eyes snapped to Emma.

"Oh. Henry's just upstairs. He can't be here." She said quickly, motioning toward Hook.

Emma kept him within a few inches of the door. He tried to move out of her embrace, but she held firm. Smiling warmly up at him whenever he looked down at her. "Then I'll be quick." He said. "Cora knows you have the dagger."

_I'll bet she does. _Emma could hear her parents' reactions, her eyes only on Hook. Having them there was going to make this difficult. Mary Margret would be shaking her head lightly, eyes on the floor as she repeated the word 'okay' a few times. David had stopped his work in the kitchen and Emma could almost see his hands fall to his hips as he contemplated what that meant for the safety of the family.

"Well, then we'll have to be ready for her. We have the upper hand here." Mary Margret said quickly. "Gold's back. We can give him the dagger and he'll be able to keep it from her. Cora's powerful, but not more powerful than him."

Hook tensed. "And what makes you think it would be safer with the Crocodile, hm? Has he proven to be an honorable man with the no potential for betrayal? I don't think giving it to him is in your best interest, dear."

"Well then what do _you_ suggest?" Mary Margret challenged. "Cause I don't know how long we can protect it from Cora if she's so set on having it."

"You give it to me." He replied smugly.

"You?" Mary Margret paused. She shared a brief look with David and then tried to find words that wouldn't offend him but would ultimately be turning him down. But Emma saw opportunity.

"Perfect." She said, and eyes fell on her. "It's a good idea. We give it to him and it's the last thing Cora would expect. At the very least it would buy us some time. And I trust him." Emma headed off the criticism. "We can trust him. He won't betray us to Cora."

"It's not him betraying us to Cora that I'm worried about…" Mary Margret said, meeting her daughter's eyes sadly.

"He's not going to use it to kill Gold." Emma reassured quickly. "I'm telling you, we can trust him. I trust him. Completely." Her tongue froze in her mouth as she said it, guilt drying her mouth. Then Emma set her eyes straight for her mother, trying to communicate without speaking. "The dagger is still where I told you to hide it until I got back, right?"

One Mississippi.

Two Mississippi.

Any longer and it would be obvious that Mary Margret had no idea what Emma was talking about. Any longer and it would give it away.

Three Mississi-

"Yes." She blinked and then nodded firmly. "Yes. We hid it just like you asked us to."

Emma spun on her heel, facing Hook. "I can't give it to you now. It'll be dark soon. I'll sneak out, get the dagger, and meet you at the docks."

He hesitated. Shit, he was getting suspicious. Or antsy. Emma knew this could play out either way. "If I go out now, Cora might notice. Let me bring it to you by nightfall. Please, I can't have Cora finding it. You're the last place she'll look."

Perhaps she had been too eager to accept.

"Nightfall." He said sharply.

Perhaps not.

"But you have to hurry. I don't want Cora getting her hands on it…especially not if it means her hurting you." He said, as Emma backed him out the door.

"I know." Emma eased the door closed as he left. She listened for footsteps and then went to the window. Keeping to the corner, she saw him leaving the building and then she was rounding on her parents.

"We've got to get the dagger out of here." Emma caught the confused stares directed at her, but ignored them. "Keep Henry with you."

"Wait, Emma—"

Emma retrieved the box they had hidden the dagger inside, opening it and stuffing the dagger into an inside coat pocket. "I don't have a lot of time to explain. Basically, that wasn't Hook just now." She met her mother's eyes. "Yeah. That was Cora. Or it was Cora controlling him. Meaning that she either has his heart or has him captive somewhere. Neither of which I find okay."

"Emma, where are you going?"

She had already crossed the room and reached the door. Emma's hand froze on the handle.

"You gotta talk to us. We can help you. We're _here_ to help you." Mary Margret pleaded and Emma sent her a smile over her shoulder.

"I know." She felt tears well behind her eyes, but not enough to make her cry. "I know, Mary Margret. And I may not know much about it, but I do _know_ that you're there. It may not seem like it, but I've grown to count on that fact. But right now, I need you both to protect Henry."

"And what about you?" She stepped forward, jaw set. "You can't just go after Cora alone."

"I'm not going after Cora." Emma said quickly. "Not yet."

"Then what're you going to do?" Mary Margret's eyes followed Emma as the front door swung open.

"I'm going to get my pirate back."


	16. Emma Swan Picks Some Locks

**A/N: Yes. Direction. Yes. I have one. Thank you for sticking with me. To all my new favorite-ers, followers, reviewers my sincerest gratitude. Enjoy the chapter. ^_^**

**SIXTEEN  
Emma Swan Picks Some Locks  
**

The brisk air slapped against her cheeks as Emma approached Gold's shop. The warmth of indoors washed over as she stepped through the threshold, brushing off the last of her shivers. The front of the shop looked empty as her eyes swept over everything.

"Gold?" She called and approached the counter. He appeared from the backroom and when he saw her his eyes dropped from her face.

"Miss Swan. I expected you to be sharing burgers with your…son right about now." He said with a touch of bitterness. Honestly, Emma had completely forgotten about Neal.

"Yeah, that's gonna have to wait." She paused, knowing that it was her last chance to back out. Including Gold might be a terrible idea for so many reasons. But she needed some information and she didn't want to put it off until it was too late to get it. "I…" Her pride had no business in this, even if the words might have been difficult for her. "I need your help."

He chuckled, two hands resting on the top of his cane. "Yes. Isn't that always the way of it?" He lifted his head, staring hard into her eyes. "Question my methods, call me the 'villain', and yet, none of that seems to bother anyone when they're the one in need of a favor."

"Are you going to help or not?" Emma pressed.

"You haven't said what it is you need, so I cannot rightly say, now can I?"

She set her shoulders. "I need to know how to defeat Cora."

"That is quite the little mystery isn't it?" He smiled without humor, looking worn. "Why do you want to know?" He studied her. "I ask because there had to be something to prompt this sudden interest. Something has made you desperate."

"That's my business." She held his gaze, daring him to challenge her.

"Fair enough. Just curious." The corner of his lip twitched and it made her uneasy. "If I was to answer your question, what would I be getting in return? I don't do hand-outs, Miss Swan."

"There's no deal, Gold." She knew this is where she might lose him. But she wanted to believe that the dagger in her belt wouldn't be necessary. She wanted to give him the chance to be what Neal wanted him to be. "You're going to help me because like it or not, we're family now."

He laughed at that, a true little giggle of mirth. "The family card? Do you know me at all?"

She blinked. "I know what you went through to find your son. I know that—"

"Bae is my family, Miss Swan. A dalliance in the past does _not_ automatically gain you the same privilege." He snapped, and Emma could see the immediate hatred that flared in himself when talking about his son. She felt a moment of true pity for him because she now had a taste of the guilt that came from hurting your child.

"Maybe you don't like it, but that doesn't change what is fact." She felt her heart in her ears, pumping in time to remind her that hers was running low. She didn't know for sure if her ruse with Cora had worked. She might all ready be too late. "Because we _are_ family. And I know that you're angry with yourself for what happened with Neal. It's going to take a long time to fix. But you're never going to get anywhere with him if you continue to treat everyone like a pawn or an enemy." She licked her lips, pausing to take a breath and let her words hang between them. "If you want Neal, Gold, if you want your son you're going to have to accept that means his family too."

He looked away from her, his fingers tapping over his hand on the cane.

"Well?" She pressed, hating that he was taking his time. In a second, she'd have to say screw good faith and use the dagger to get him to talk.

"Killing Cora won't be easy." He said finally, his eyes still lingering on artifacts and avoiding her face.

"I'm not trying to kill her—"

"Then I'm sorry, but I don't know how to help you." He snapped. Then he snickered incredulously, lifting a hand into the air and gesturing as he spoke. "I don't know why it is you have such a difficult time with solving a problem directly. You, your mother, your father, you all want some round about moral solution to your problems, but sometimes, Miss Swan, people have to die."

"I know that." She bit back. "I'm not delusional. I know how the world works, okay? So don't go preaching to me." She took a few deep breaths, getting angry. "But unlike you I happen to think that there's usually more than one solution. Killing her might be my only option, but I won't know until I've tried the others. I'm not going to sit here and plot a murder, but that doesn't mean I'm afraid to do what has to be done."

"Very well." He took a breath. "Cora cannot be…_defeated_…easily. Your best option at the moment would be to find her heart."

"Her heart?"

"Yes, her heart. I can't say exactly where she might keep it, but I'll tell you that I've little doubt she brought it with her. It's in Storybrooke, you can be sure of that."

Emma nodded, her mind racing through the options. "And when I get it?"

"Well, that's entirely up to you." He replied. "You've got three choices in front of you. One, you crush it. Two, you use it to get yourself a pretty powerful new pet. Which I don't advise since she's liable to take that personally and exact revenge on you tenfold once she's free and she _will_ get free. Three, you give it back and arrest her or whatever it is you do."

"And that's it? I get the heart or…?"

"You get the heart, dearie, because that's the only way you're going to beat her." He cleared his throat, straightening. "Now, if you'll kindly see yourself out, shop's closed."

Emma turned on her heel, letting the door slam behind her. She had her answer and now it was time to get things moving. Once she found Killian she wouldn't have much time, if any, before Cora retaliated. Emma wanted to cover her bases now while she could.

She marched down the sidewalk until she reached the mayor's office. If Regina was helping Cora, like Killian had said, then Regina was going to be her biggest clue to finding them. Hovering across the street she debated with herself before passing it up. Her office might have things she needed, but it was a public building. Too open for them to be hiding. Emma considered the crypt, but she was all ready a block from Regina's home. It was worth a shot, since she was all ready there.

Sneaking inside would be a long shot. There was probably magic guarding it anyway, whether they were inside or not. Emma didn't know how much Regina and her mother had figured out. It was going to be a risk taking a direct approach. Emma lingered for a few more seconds before going with her gut. She marched up to the front door and knocked.

There was noise inside, so someone was home. Emma appeared at ease, causally turning as she waited. Finally the door swung open and Regina looked taken aback.

"Miss Swan?"

"Hey."

Regina stalked forward, her eyes glancing to either side. "What're you doing here?"

Emma shrugged. "Oh, I was hoping we could talk."

"About?" Regina snapped, her voice was stern and Emma was beginning to recognize her clipped tone as sign of fear.

Putting on a sincere smile, Emma let her head hang to the side wistfully. "Well, let me start by apologizing."

"Apologizing?" She frowned, staring Emma down like she was speaking Latin. "For what?"

"For accusing you? I never got the chance to tell you that we figured out what had happened with Dr. Hopper. Turns out he wasn't even murdered and that the real culprit behind it all was your mother." Emma leaned back on her heels. "Yeah, I know right? So I've sorta been feeling bad about the whole situation. I mean, you were actually innocent."

Regina followed this speech, eyes narrowed and mouth almost hanging open.

"Which brings me to my next point, Cora is in Storybrooke." Emma reached forward with her hand, eyes going wide as she feigned concern. "I should have said something to you sooner, because I know you didn't want her here either. I mean, you nearly killed me and Mary Margret trying to keep her out of Storybrooke. We both know what her return means for Henry." Regina's eyes snapped upward, locking with Emma's. "She's her grandson and if she could do, I'm guessing, horrible things to you then Henry doesn't really stand a chance does he?" Okay, she was trying to milk some guilt from Regina. Just a little bit. She might need it later and Regina deserved to feel some guilt. She'd given up on Henry, in Emma's mind. She'd given up by taking the easy road with magic and manipulation. Emma had no sympathy for her anymore. She'd obviously made her choice and it wasn't Henry.

Blinking, Regina didn't respond for half a second. Emma was waiting, watching her face carefully, trying to catch a glimpse over Regina's shoulder when she wasn't looking.

"You didn't know she was back did you?"

"I…" Regina nodded. "Yes, actually. Mary Margret informed me when I went to ask about Henry."

"Oh good. Then you'll all ready know to keep away from her."

"Of course…" Regina nodded.

"Do you mind if I come in? I should probably tell you why I had to run off with Henry so out of the blue. Since you're trying to get back into his life, I want to show you that I'm more than willing to give you that chance." Emma waited, hoping that Regina would bite.

"You see…" Regina began with a glance behind her. Then finally she mustered up a smile, which Emma knew was hiding something. "Now's not such a good time."

"Company?"

"No, no…just…"

"It won't take long." Emma reasoned, taking a step forward. "But it's important."

Regina blocked Emma's path, her hand still holding the door half closed behind her. "It's not a good time, Miss Swan. Maybe I can meet you at the diner later?"

"Oo." Emma winced, hissing through her teeth. "Yeah, that's not so good for me. I've got some other meetings scheduled for later. I'm free now, but if you'd rather wait, I guess that's up to you. I wanted you to find out from me rather than hear it on the street." She offered a half shrug. "I owe you that much after the whole Archie thing. But if you're too busy I understand." The words rose up her throat like bile. Emma offered another partial smile to keep herself in character. _Just keep smiling, Emma. She seems to be buying it for now. 'Bout time she knew what it was like to be played._

Emma turned and started walking back up the path. She closed her eyes. If Regina didn't take the bait then she had said all of it for nothing.

"Miss Swan?"

Bingo.

"Yes?" Emma spun around again, trying not to look smug.

"I've got time for a quick word." Regina held the door open and Emma took the invitation.

Regina crossed her arms lightly. "Well. What is it about my son that was so important?"

Emma cleared her throat, wishing she could just fabricate something believable. But in the end, it wouldn't matter. She wasn't about to share a secret or anything. Regina would find out regardless and it was easier to keep her subtext a lie when her actual words were the truth. "Henry's father is back. I thought you should know."

"His father?" Regina snapped, uncrossing her arms. "I thought his father was dead."

"Well, he isn't." Emma replied, dropping some of her charade. Every word stuck in her throat and she had to bite through the delivery, because Regina was the last woman in the world she wanted to be telling this to. With Cora as a very close second. "I had told Henry he died to protect him from the truth."

"So you lied?" Regina accused, her face stern. It was Mayor Mills speaking; judging Emma for doing what she had faulted Regina for.

"Hey, I did what I thought was best. It was wrong…and I know that now. So let's not start pointing fingers here cause I think we both know who'll lose that debate."

Regina huffed. "Is that all you wanted to tell me Miss Swan?"

Emma steeled herself. "One more small thing…uh, turns out Henry's father is also the son of Rumpelstiltskin."

There was a small silence, a space of time where Regina processed this information her smile dropping. Finally she motioned to her dining room. "Would you care to sit? I'll get us something to drink. It appears we have a lot to discuss." Emma paled. She had wanted to get Regina to leave at some point, but the idea of actually sitting down and having a chat given everything was…unappealing. Emma followed her toward the dining room, hovering behind a chair. Regina disappeared into the kitchen and Emma knew she only had a small amount of time.

"Hey, you mind if I use the bathroom real quick?" Emma called, all ready backing up and glancing up and down the hallway. Seriously, though, what kind of house needed that many rooms?

"It's down the hallway to your right." She replied from the kitchen.

Emma kept her back to the stairs until she reached them. She jogged up the first few, skipping every other step until she reached the top. There were a few rooms with the doors left open, which she passed, and a room at the end of the hall that looked like it might lead to Regina's room. God, she hoped he wasn't in there. Trying the handle she found it turned and she stuck her head inside. Empty. After easing the door shut she shuffled off to another closed door and opened it to see Henry's room. While the sight of it halted her, ultimately she knew had little time to spare. So she shut her eyes to the artifacts of her son's childhood, the one she never got to be a part of, and moved on.

She found a room with a lock on it and bent down in front of it. She'd been upstairs for about forty-five seconds. It was going to be risky to take the time to pick it. Biting her lip, Emma decided to screw caution. Digging in her pocket she fished out a sturdy wire, which she packed just in case, and used her cell phone light to try and look inside the lock mechanism. Skeleton locks were usually pretty simple to pick. She bent the wire a bit and then stuck it inside twisting and jingling to try and get it to catch. It only took a few seconds for her to here the click, but the door remained locked. Cursing, Emma didn't know if she could attempt it again.

Emma glanced at the stairs and decided to try one last thing. She lifted her right hand, rubbing her fingers together anxiously, and hesitated before placing her palm over the keyhole. Did she use magic words? Alohomora? It felt kind of silly just sitting there, trying to will something to happen. But she didn't have time for embarrassment. Closing her eyes, Emma concentrated on the idea that the door was protected with magic. She was trying to undo that magic.

Still nothing. Damn it, she really needed to get back downstairs. Regina would never be in the kitchen for that long…it had been two full minutes…

Glaring at the door, Emma adjusted her palm, but kept it braced against the wood. One last time. _Okay. Concentrate. You need to open this door. Because he needs you._ _So open the door, Emma._ _Killian needs you._

She closed her eyes again and this time she could feel the tingle of the magic in her fingers. It wasn't a powerful sensation. She'd felt more from a limb falling asleep. But it had done the trick. The door was now hanging open in front of her. Jumping to her feet she entered Regina's office. She started with the desk.

But she didn't know what she was looking for. Killian obviously wasn't being held in that room. She supposed the only other sign would have been…okay so she was looking for a heart. But how do you recognize a heart? Regina collected them so there might have been hearts hidden all over that office. But Emma decided to believe that she would know it because it was his. Corny as that sounded.

There was nothing of note on the top of the desk, but then a sound caught Emma's ears. A gentle thumping. Swallowing, Emma followed her ears to one of the drawers. Pulling it open she saw an ornate little box, red glowing through the cracks.

"The hell is wrong with these people?" She mumbled as she fished out the box and lifted the clasp. Inside was definitely a heart. Pumping and living and everything. Bright red and glowing with a swirl of black at the very center. And there was no doubt that it belonged to Killian.

She wanted to touch it, but it felt wrong. Emma debated leaving it where it was…she didn't want them to find it missing before Emma could find Killian. Her mind raced, mentally keeping track of the time and knowing that she had to leave. Now. She replayed everything of importance, pieced it all together, and came to a quick conclusion. If she was wrong then she would have just made things very complicated. Even though it felt wrong, she tenderly wrapped her fingers over the heart and lifted it from the box. She then shut it and put it back in its drawer. She started to leave the office, the muscle in her hand beating against her fingertips. Weirdest feeling ever.

She began to close the door behind her, turning the lock on her way out and hoping that the spells guarding it would reactivate automatically as she left. Regina had to've taken some lessons from modern technology. But that left Emma standing in Regina's hallway with the heart still in her hand. She didn't have a purse. Did she put it in her pocket? That felt really _really_ wrong.

She headed for the stairs as she tried to decide. She was on the second landing when she heard Regina calling for her. Time was up. Regina was about to enter the dining room which was in direct line of sight with the stairs. She needed to be off them before that happened.

Emma took two steps at a time and jumped the last four, landing as quietly as possible before retreating down the hallway with the bathroom. The noise had alerted Regina, who called out to her again.

"Miss Swan?" She could hear Regina's voice near the bottom of the stairs just as she slipped into the bathroom. She let her back fall against the door as she caught her breath. But she couldn't waste any more time in that house. Holding up the heart, she whispered into her palm. "Sorry, Killian." Then she carefully worked it into her coat pocket. And that is how Emma Swan found herself with his heart quite literally in her pocket. Once they were out of this mess she was going to make jokes. Because he was not the only one who could tease. When she'd caught her breath she opened the door again and smiled at Regina who was frowning up the stairs.

"Everything okay?" She asked with a note of innocent confusion.

Regina pointed at her stairs, stepping down from the bottom step. "I thought I heard…never mind."

If she thought that talking to Regina had been difficult before, the steady pumping in her pocket was making her fidget like there were ants crawling over her skin. She stepped up to Regina, an apologetic smile on her face. "I'm sorry, but I'm afraid I won't be able to stay for that drink. We'll have to finish this talk another day. Sorry." She put on a sympathetic frown and Regina looked peeved.

"Of course. Don't let me keep you." Regina eyed her and went to get the door for her. They exchanged a clipped goodbye and then Emma was heading home as quickly as she could walk.

**00000**

Emma paced in front of the door, waiting for the last rays of sunlight to disappear.

"This is a terrible idea." David repeated. He was positioned behind Mary Margret, who was twirling a necklace in her fingers anxiously.

Emma sent David a stern glare. "Yeah. But what other options do I have?"

He let out a breath, "Think about it Emma. You don't even know for sure if Cora is pretending to be Hook. You found the heart. So it's more likely that they're controlling him. Which means he won't be there."

"He will." She snapped. "That Hook that we met earlier _was_ Cora. I know. Not only was he acting strange but he just…"

"But you can't be sure?" David repeated, his tone a bit softer. He was trying to see her side, but in this case his dislike of Killian was winning out over the romantic in him. "You can't be certain of that—"

"No. I can't." Emma stopped pacing, hands firmly on her hips. "I can't be certain, but I'm telling you that wasn't him. That wasn't any part of the real him that was here. If they had only been controlling him then…then at least it would have felt…" She stared at her hands and then huffed. "I know what I'm doing."

Mary Margret spoke next, her voice soft, almost quiet. "We're just worried, Emma. It's a risky plan. Sneaking into Regina's house…I don't like it either."

"I know it's risky. But he only has until ten tonight before Cora tries some new tactic. That's when I said I'd be there with the dagger. She only agreed to play along with my diversion because she doesn't know where we put it. If it'll save her from looking she'll wait a few hours, but if I don't show up or if I show up and try to give her anything but the dagger then she'll be done waiting. She'll move on to plan B and I don't think plan B would be good for any of us, but least of all Killian who's actually there, in her hands. We just have to get him here. Safe."

She checked out the window and saw a dusky sky still darkening. "I'll text you when I've got him and we're out of there." Mary Margret rushed forward and hugged her, telling her to be careful. Emma could feel David behind her, his arms reaching her over his wife, and he repeated the sentiment just before he and Mary Margret whispered a 'we love you.'

Emma blinked, not knowing how to respond. She wanted to tell them she loved them too, because she did but…

"It's okay." Mary Margret had pulled back. "We know. Now go on. And make sure you come back."

She gave her mother a quick nod and was heading out into the crisp night air. She shrugged her jacket over her shoulders and when she was nearing Regina's house she began to slow her pace. She opted for the back entrance, sneaking up the side of the shrubbery adorning the front yard. Emma kept her eyes focused for lights, but only the upstairs had any light coming from it. As she rounded to the backyard she noticed light from the kitchen, but she quickly registered it as the soft glow of an oven light. She stalked her way toward the back door and took a small leather case from her pocket. She checked the lock and then the tools and selected the appropriate one.

This door had not been sealed with magic and Emma picked it quickly. She eased it closed and tip-toed through the kitchen. She had all ready checked upstairs. And somehow Emma didn't think he'd be sitting in the living room. She looked for a basement door. The first one she tried was a large pantry. Another door led her to a side entrance with a small mud room and in that was a door that had to lead to the basement.

Emma tried it and naturally it was locked. She tried her tools, the lock being a simple skeleton key same as upstairs. But there was magic sealing the door this time too. Which strengthened her hope that he was there. She flicked some of the hair from her face as she crouched by the door. Her watch read quarter past nine. Forty-five minutes. She could still do this. She put both her hands on the door this time, fingers splayed. She squared her shoulders and closed her eyes. She didn't know why she closed her eyes. But she'd always seen it in the movies and it was easier to concentrate on doing ridiculous things when you weren't looking.

Emma tried to remember what had done it last time. The first time she had consciously tried using magic was when she had been trying to protect Killian from Gold. Then there was earlier that day when she had wanted to unlock the door. But what had made it work? She had been thinking about saving Killian…

Could that be it? Could he be the key to magic? She tried to picture his face in her mind, her hands pressed to the door. Nothing happened.

Emma opened her eyes. Mary Margret. She had been trying to protect Mary Margret at Lake Nostos.

Hands back on the door Emma focused on her need to find him. To keep him safe. To protect him.

Her fingers tingled and the door swung away from her hands. She left her arms extended and marveled for a minute. That power flowing through her…she could definitely get used to it. Emma wiped the smile from her face as she pushed the door the rest of the way and began her descent.

* * *

**A/N: I know. I know. They've been apart for so long. I am trying to get them back together but I want to do it believably while also trying to develop some sort of plot. Thank you for reading. ^_^  
**


	17. My Heart or Yours?

**A/N: A short chapter, hopefully I'll be able to get the next one out quickly. Thanks for all the reading and reviewing. Enjoy.**

**SEVENTEEN  
My Heart or Yours?**

The passage of time was impossible to gauge in the utter darkness of the basement. There had been a few restless hours at first, of overpowering frustration that he was stuck while Emma was possibly battling Cora. Mostly it had been the fuel for his attempts to free himself despite the fact that he could not see a damn thing. In the end, he'd managed to crack his forehead on a table and his attempt to find something sharp had tipped the contents of some perfumed liquid all over him. The initial scent had made him sneeze and he had no way of wiping the fragrance from his face. The places it had met his skin tingled, but otherwise there seemed to be no ill side-effects. So. All in all. The situation was thoroughly dismal and quite beyond the realms of aggravation.

It had been shortly after the run in with the table, when he had been lying on the stone floor seething, that he'd felt a flutter in his chest. The ghosting of a touch and he cringed at the thought of Regina or her odious mother handling his heart. It was an intrusion of the most intimate kind and it made him sick that there was nothing he could do. They could whisper whatever demands they wished and he would have no choice but to comply. And it was the first time he truly felt guilt for doing the same to that one princess, what was her name? He couldn't even remember. Which made the offense all the more cruel. And guilt was just _not_ something that he experienced often.

_Sorry Killian._

The words that rang in his ears were instantly familiar. His eyes shot open before he cringed against the sudden tugging in his chest. It had only lasted a few seconds before he could breathe again. He blinked into the blackness as he heaved heavy puffs of air, the pain gradually receding. He knew that voice. That was Emma beyond any doubt. Tenacious. Beautiful. Marvel of a woman that she was. How she had come to get her hold on his heart was quite the question. But the proud smile stretching over his face suggested he didn't care for answers.

Now. He had to figure out Emma's course of action. Her appearance at Regina's house was proof enough that she had seen through Cora's ruse and she would be wise enough to keep up the pretense if it was possible. There was no way to know for sure the exact context of Emma figuring Cora out, but he had to assume that she had not done so openly and that Cora was, as of yet, unaware of Emma's knowledge. Then she would seek to buy time. Time which she would then use to…

"Bloody hell, Emma." He spoke into the darkness, slightly exasperated. Of course she would use that time to go straight to the bloody center of everything. No doubt she felt that heroic urge to come find him or some other selfless intuition. That is how she'd gotten her hands on his heart. It wasn't the wisest course by any means, but it seemed she had succeeded. Every passing second was confirmation that Emma had retrieved his heart and gotten away with it. The question now was whether she would still come looking for him or if she would assume that Cora had just been controlling him.

Whatever she ended up believing he wasn't about to just sit and wait. There was no way of knowing where the door was from his position, but he knew that it had to be along the wall somewhere. With his arms and legs bound it was difficult to move, but he managed to worm his way to a defined boundary of the room. Choosing a direction he began to slowly make his way around. Now in a much calmer state of mind he seized any opportunity to search a table or shelf or any object that he bumped into for something sharp.

Exercising the full extent of his patience as he navigated the dark, he finally managed to slice his finger on something. Most glorious pain he'd ever felt. He worked his way around the object until he found the handle. It was a short knife, something used for precision and extremely sharp. He'd managed to knick his hand twice more as he fumbled to get the damn thing in an ideal position. Hard as it was with bound wrists, it was even more difficult with only one usable hand and the swell of blood slicking the handle. Eventually, he found a way to begin to saw through the rope. It was a slow process and the knife slipped twice from his grip. Slowest bloody escape he'd ever attempted. He was grinding his teeth by the time he finally freed his hands. Shirking off the rope he scooped up the knife and began to saw through the bonds on his ankles. It was considerably faster, but the blood on the handle was starting to get sticky and he knew that his hand must look a mess. He felt around briefly for something to wrap it in, but there was nothing so he moved on. This time at a much more reasonable pace.

Eventually he worked his way to a set of stairs. He was about to start up them when he heard movement above him. Then someone at the door. Then it flew open and light flooded over the stairs. He had skirted out of the way just in time. The harsh slamming of the door at the top had been a hint that this wasn't Emma about to rescue him. Blinking against the sudden illumination he scooped up the cut rope, hid the knife up his sleeve, and made sure to sit so that his arms and legs were hidden.

The click of heels echoed with each step until Regina was in sight. She eyed him as she crossed the room and examined the table he was closest to. The one he had bumped into when he had first struggled to get free. She picked up an empty bottle and glowered.

"What was in this?"

"And how the hell should I know that?" He spat. He was beyond caring about charm at this stage.

She frowned and looked over the table, working the bottle through her fingers. "I hope for your sake it was nothing important."

"Is there a reason you're here because I'm not particularly interested in chatting." He considered striking out with the knife. It was doubtful that she could react in time. He'd have the upper hand. But something about the situation read caution. Cora was the real threat and rashly lashing out a Regina was not going to solve that. So he stayed his hand.

"There is, actually." She set the empty bottle down calmly. "I'm sure you've already guessed, but Miss Swan popped in a couple hours ago." Her face was passive. No threat or indication of her plans. She was trying to gauge him.

"Had she?" He kept his gaze level. Because he was no beginner when it came to playing this game. There was a saying about trying to trick a trickster. And Regina was going to have to try harder than that.

She smiled. "Oh yes. It seems she decided to do some snooping around—" her eyes flashed disdain, "_my_ house. You wouldn't happen to know what she was after."

He chuckled, tongue flicking out to wet his lips. "Your majesty, even had I the knowledge to answer you, what makes you delude yourself into thinking I'd share that information seeing absolutely no gain in it for me?" His mocking smile fell with each word, his lips now a callous line. "Whatever it is you're hoping to learn from me understand that I am not going to be sharing anything that does not suit my own needs."

Her lips quirked at the corner. A bad feeling rose up his throat, but he swallowed it down. "I suppose you're right about that. I don't know what I was thinking." Her voice was too sweet. Too accepting. She turned and began to leave. He debated attacking while her back was turned, but something about her gait told him she might be prepared for it. Regina would not have gone to see him for so frivolous a conversation. She had a point. And she was about to make it.

Turning after the first step, she set both hands on the walls beside her. Her nose flaring with the drama of the scene she'd just created. "In case you were curious, it was your heart that Swan was after. And I can admit that she cleverly wielded my interest in my son's well being against me. But now it's her turn." The smile vanished and her voice was stern as magic began to pour from the tips of her fingers where they met the wall. "Swan is going to do one of two things." The spell wove and crackled until it enclosed the bottom stair. "One she brings your heart to my mother believing it to be you. Which would solve itself perfectly. Or option two. She somehow imagines that you're a prisoner here and heroically attempts to rescue you. If that is the path she chooses then this will be waiting for her." She set her eyes over the sparking wall of magic that had begun to fade until it was fully invisible. "Through this she will only be able to see what _I_ want her to see. A tragic scene of her true love unconscious at the bottom of the stairs." Regina's smile had returned, taking satisfaction from the sound of her own voice. "And once she rushes blindly forward to rescue you…" Savoring each word she stared straight into his eyes, "Her heart will stop."

His anger flared under his skin, but he kept it in check. He stayed seated, not attempting to break through the bonds she believed him to be held by. Because it was clear that the best chance for Emma was having him there and unbound. "You're going to kill her? All this skirting around the act and you're just going to end it? How's your lad going to take that, hm? He going to go rushing into your arms at her funeral? Allow you to dry his tears as he morns?" It was taking considerable will power to remain seated. _But it would not help Emma._

"You do not have the right to talk to me about _my_ son." Her voice rose. "And I am done playing games with that family. If Emma gets herself killed while breaking into my home then that is hardly my fault, now is it? So it'll be all the better for me if Emma dies. And let's not forget that you'll have the best view in the house." Her eyes narrowed. "I don't take betrayal lightly. You have gotten away with it one too many times."

She turned and he could hear the locks falling into place as the darkness settled over the room. He shook the bonds from his wrists and began to remap the basement from memory. He found a lantern on the wall, but he had nearly decided to discard it since he had neither flint nor tinder to start a flame. It was a lucky accident that he found the button that turned it on, which he didn't have time to question. There was not much to go on in that basement even with a light. All of her scattered potion bottles and a few surplus ingredients meant little to him without written directions.

He searched along the wall for some sort of exit that was not the front door. There was nothing but solid rock all around him.

A found a mop and bucket, which he threw at the bottom of the stairs. A ripple ran through the magic, but otherwise it appeared intact. He was running out of time.

Hands on hips, he regarded the bottom of the stairs. The barrier was going to stop Emma's heart. He did not have a heart in his body. He sighed, knowing that it was a risk regardless. The magic might find something else to attack with no heart to feed on. Or he might not be able to pass through at all. Or it might stop his heart regardless of its current relation to his body. Or…

The lock at the top of the stairs twisted. His eyes shot toward the door at the very edge of the lantern's glow. There was more fiddling against the lock and then silence. If he didn't know Emma to be persistent he might have hoped that she had given up. But true to character, Emma was eventually pushing the door open.

Her eyes landed on him, but he knew from the contortion of her features that it was not him she was seeing. She lunged. And he lunged.

He hit the barrier first. A surge of magic electrocuting his nerves as he met the stairs face first. The pain in his chest fluttered only for the span of a heartbeat before it ended.


	18. Forward

**EIGHTEEN  
Forward**

For that instant, terror had completely seized her. Emma had thrown herself down the stairs, her mind screaming a resounding 'no' to the reality that seemed to be waiting at the bottom. Killian's broken form in a growing puddle that glistened in that faint oven light seeping in from the kitchen. There had been no other thought in her mind outside of reaching him and feeling a pulse.

She made it half way down before he, Killian, was face planting in front of her. A shimmer of sparks and magic rippled at the bottom of the stairs, but her focus was him. She knelt beside him, pushing hair behind her ear. He wasn't moving and she tentatively held out a hand. He wasn't breathing.

"Shit." She started to flip him over, hoping to get some form of CPR going and not really considering the practicality of doing so on the incline of stairs. As soon as she had him on his back he drew in a sharp hiss of air and relief allowed her to breathe again. He panted as his hand fell over his chest and he rested his head on the stair.

"Thank the stars that worked."

He flashed her a grin, but she was gaping at his hand. It was a mess of congealed blood with a few deep welled lines highlighting the source of the mess. "The hell did you do to your hand?"

"Looks worse than it feels." He gave her a shrug and she was frowning as her eyes traveled up and met his face. "The rest of me, on the other hand…what?" Emma's mouth fell open. The blue in his eyes was worn, his face older, as if five years had passed instead of three days. "Is it that bad? Had a run in with a sharp corner fumbling around in that bloody abyss they call a cellar." He tried to keep his tone light.

"Is that it? Is that all that happened?" Emma pressed. Because there was more than just a tiny cut on his forehead.

Confusion rippled over his features. "Aye. Well, aside from the tactless relocating of my heart. Why?"

Emma opened her mouth but nothing came out. She shook her head instead. "I…we should talk about this later. Are you okay to move?" She stood and offered a hand, which he accepted. Emma latched onto is wrist and began to help him up the stairs.

"Bloody hell—" He wavered on the top step, his knee bent on the stair.

"Shh." She scolded and then sucked in her lips guiltily.

"No, I'm fine. Thank you."

With a roll of her eyes Emma helped him up again and they managed to shuffle their way toward the back door. She was just about to open it when he stopped her.

"What the hell is it?" She hissed, keeping her voice a harsh whisper.

He raised his left arm. "Can't leave without my belongings."

Emma considered leaving without it. They didn't have much time. But she had every belief that Regina wasn't actually in the house. That she would be waiting with her mother. So Emma tip-toed, because you always tip-toe when sneaking around someone else's house, and searched through the office again. This time she broke in with ease and finding his hook proved easier than anticipated. She was back downstairs and out the door in five minutes. Once outside she was able to breathe again, but she didn't let them rest until they got to Granny's. Ruby let them in after a few minutes of knocking and Emma hauled Killian into a booth. He sank backwards, head resting on the wall.

"What the hell happened?" Ruby hissed to Emma when she returned with some water and a washcloth. She wrinkled her nose at the sight of him and Emma assumed it was just a werewolf plus blood thing.

"Regina and Cora." Emma answered. "Got their hands on his…crap. I completely forgot." She carefully worked into the pocket of her coat and pulled out a small bundle. The rhythm of life beat into her fingertips and she didn't think she could ever get used to that feeling.

"What the hell is that? Is that what I think it is?" Ruby was watching Emma's shaking hand with trepidation.

"Is a live human heart what you think it is?" Emma sent her a sideways glance as she moved toward Killian.

Ruby set her lips and nodded. "Gross."

"Yep. And insanely creepy. It still…beats and everything." She unwrapped it and kneeled her way into the booth behind Killian's. Her arm hovered over the backs of their benches and he opened an eye at the movement.

"There is surely a good amount of symbolism in this. You hovering over me with my literal heart in your hands. But for the life of me I can't think of anything." He gave her a tired smile, his eyes drooping closed.

Emma cleared her throat and then glanced at Ruby. "So. You think it's just a simple 'shove it back in' kind of deal or do we need to call Whale?"

Ruby chuckled darkly, her eyebrows creasing. "Like I have any idea. I've only ever _bitten_ into a chest cavity. Not a very constructive way to learn human anatomy."

"If it helps you any, Emma, I trust you with my heart completely." He was fighting to keep awake, his eyes opening less and less with each blink.

A giddy warmth spread to her cheeks, but it vanished when Emma looked up to see Ruby's hands holding the sides of her head as she mouthed 'aw.' Emma cleared her throat, deciding to ignore her. "Okay. On the count of three I'm going for it."

"Be gentle, lass. I hear the first time always hurts." His laughter was pathetic and muted.

"One." She lowered her hand, grimacing. "Two." God, this had better work. She didn't want to make things worse. "Three." As carefully as she could, she shoved the muscle back into about where she thought it went and then pulled her hand free. Killian cringed and then slackened as she withdrew, falling back against the wall. For a few seconds he lay there, breathing lightly. Then his eyes opened and she waited for something bad to happen.

"Looks like it worked." He said and Emma fell into the booth, a hand going to her forehead. The past four days could just go fuck themselves at this point. Damn rollercoaster of freaking out, guilt, her past catching up with her, and then this whole mess not even ten minutes after she gets back.

Ruby stepped forward then and handed Emma the washcloth. "So the Witch Bitches got hold of his heart?"

Emma began to tend to his hand which really wasn't as bad as it had looked. "Is that what we're calling them now?"

"That's what Granny and I call them, yeah. But what did they want his heart for, anyway? I thought he was, you know, on their side? And didn't you two…break up?"

Emma eyed her, "Yeah. I mean, sort of. Okay, he was never really on any side. But he's on ours now so that's all that matters. And no. We never…broke up."

Ruby held her tongue, looking like she might argue but was keeping it to herself. Emma finished with his hand and passed the rag back to Ruby, who immediately tossed it into the nearest trashcan. Though he looked cleaner, a lot less horrifying without all the gore, he didn't actually look better. He was regaining some of the color in his skin but Emma could swear that he looked worse.

"Ruby," His smile was still meek, but he was no longer slumped in the seat. "If I could impose upon your hospitality further and request a drink?"

"Sure. We've got some water—"

"Or something a bit stronger, if you could, love."

She shook her head. "We don't typically serve those kinds of drinks, but I'll see what I can dig up."

"My thanks." He watched her leave, eyes focused until she disappeared into the back rooms. With a careful turn of his head his gaze fell on Emma. She shifted in her seat. It was like he was attempting to read her mind right then and there.

"What is it?" His voice was low, serious.

"I…" She opened her mouth to argue, to feign ignorance, but that just didn't seem like the path she needed to take. What would it help if she kept her worry to herself? With a deep breath, Emma decided to be honest. "I don't really know how to describe it. You just…you look older, I guess."

His eyes went to the floor with a slight nod. "I see. That would explain why I feel worse than when that bloody car hit me." Again he offered her a smile, both hiding behind it and hoping to protect her from worry. She doubted if either end was really achieved.

"What happened down there?" Her voice was soft, because it dawned on her that as much as she wanted to know, she didn't want to actually hear it. The state she had found him in, the fact that she had had to hold his heart in her pocket, she didn't want to hear any of it. Because there would be nothing she could do about it now.

"Well, after Cora figured out our ruse, or part of it, she gained herself the upper hand." He motioned to his chest. "After telling me their plans concerning you and the dagger, I was locked into the cellar. I was mostly useless, bound and in the pitch black, when I heard your voice." His eyes fell, a genuine twitch in the corner of his mouth. "It wasn't hard to guess what had happened and to work out some of your plan. Unfortunately, Regina had also worked out what you intended to do and set up that trap on the stairs for you. It was meant to kill you as soon as your crossed it."

Emma had been nodding along until that last sentence. "Wait. But you threw yourself through it? How—"

"I was relying very heavily on the specifics of her plan. She said that it was supposed to stop the heart if you passed through it."

"And you didn't have one."

"The logic was sound, but I had my doubts…" He trailed off and then cleared his throat. "Anyway. It worked."

"Or." She raised an eyebrow. "Or it only half worked and passing through that barrier sapped some of the life out of you."

Killian was shaking his head, leaning toward her over the barrier of their seats. "Don't sound so pessimistic, Emma. It worked in that we are both alive. So I feel like shit for a couple of hours. A few days. It hardly matters." His eyes flickered to her mouth before meeting her eyes again and she fought a grin. He paused, as if he considered speaking, but instead his hand glided up her cheek and pulled her into him in a chaste kiss. Pure and simple for the span of a few heartbeats. Their lips parted and closed together—once and then again from a different angle. He rose up onto his knee and pressed her backward, Emma sitting on the table for balance as he climbed over the booth to reach her. Each meeting of lips growing more heated, more breathless, and more scandalous. Her fingers brushed over his cheeks and down his shoulders, refreshing her senses to his lines and shape and textures. Leather and stubble.

"Whoa." Ruby's mouth had fallen open, blinking. "I mean. Sorry. I didn't…I can just set this here." She set down a dusty bottle of wine. "Didn't mean to…interrupt. Carry on." She turned to leave, but Emma called her back. If Ruby left they'd have no real reason not to keep going and she had other plans. Cora would be figuring out that Emma was never going to show. And then she and Regina would return to the house. Where there would be no prisoner waiting for them.

Killian didn't seem to like this idea, but he hoped back to the ground and extended his left arm for Emma. Her fingers circled over his hook for balance as she got to the floor, a quick adjust of her shirts. Ruby tentatively picked up the wine and finished out some glasses. She looked back and forth between them before smirking and hiding her humor by staring at the floor.

Emma shook her head at the offer of a drink and instead pressed on. "How much have you learned about Cora?"

He studied the wine in his glass after taking a sip, a hint of disappointment in his gaze before he was answering her. "Not very much, but I already knew more than she thought."

"Like where she might keep her heart?" Two separate glances fell on her, but she stood her ground. "It's the only way we can hope to defeat her. I can do a bit of magic, but it's not going to be much good against her _and_ Regina for long. Getting her heart is our best shot."

Ruby stared into her glass, swirling the contents. Emma looked to Killian, needing him to agree with her. Needing for him not to fight her on this. And when their eyes met she knew that he wouldn't. Communicating in a look what she would have to spell out for anyone else. It wasn't easy to accept being part of a team. Needing to rely on other people. To explain your ideas and keep everyone on the same page. Even with her parents that had been a struggle. But with Killian it was easy. It was natural.

"I have never actually seen where she keeps it." He said. "But I know that it is with her belongings. They had been stored on my ship, but she removed them shortly after arriving here."

Emma chewed on her lip. "It's not at Regina's house. I would have seen it."

"But it would be somewhere associated with Regina." He added.

"Which is…the mayor's office and…" She lifted her gaze, knowing the answer. "It's not a guarantee, but I've a good feeling of where it might be." Her smile faded, "But you should probably wait here."

He was already standing, marching over to her. "We could argue about this, Emma, or we could just get a move on and not waste the time."

"Had a feeling you'd say that." She mumbled. Ruby was cleaning up their glasses, stashing the lot of it behind the counter before moving to join them. Emma was about to tell her that she definitely needed to stay behind when movement caught her eye. Coming out of the backroom was Neal and Emma's heart sank.

Her gut reaction to his face was still pain. She didn't know how long it would take for that to change, but she knew it wouldn't be easy. It was hard to associate his face with anything positive. Even if she sincerely wanted him to have a chance with Henry.

"Neal." Emma crossed the room, figuring that he'd be pissed about her missing their dinner.

He held up a hand, "Don't worry about it." He didn't sound happy, the clipped tone leading her to infer that he was merely trying to be civil.

"Look, can we talk later?" She sent a nervous glance over her shoulder. "I've got something to do right now and I really nee—"

"Going to fight Cora and Regina, right?" He tried to meet her eyes. "Right?" The shifting of her stance answered for her. "When you didn't show I went over to your place and your mom filled me in. Not about everything, but the rest was easy to figure out."

Emma felt pressure along her back and a familiar scent washed over her, instantly calming her. "Neal, this is—"

"Hook." Neal licked his lips, nodding. "Yeah. We know each other."

"Wait, what?" That had been the last thing she expected. Her current boyfriend sharing a past with her ex. "How? Where? When, for that matter?" She looked between them both accusingly, though no one could really be at fault for knowing each other.

Neal tore his eyes from Killian, looking at her as he answered. "This world isn't the first one I came to. I'd be a couple hundred years old if it was."

"Neverland?" Emma's heart flipped. There had been such a rush of things happening that she hadn't allowed herself a moment to consider the possibility of Neverland being a real place. A place she could go. It had been too important just to let the idea slip through her consciousness. Neverland was real. She pushed the thoughts back. Now was not the time either.

"Yeah." Neal confirmed and Killian was staring mutely, his eyes dark and piercing all directed at Neal. "I was just a kid, still. Lost. Alone. Scared. You took advantage of that." Neal was now speaking only to Killian. Maybe it was in contrast to Neal, or the stern set of his shoulders and jaw, but he looked even older than before.

"I took nothing from you by force. Whatever information I happened to learn had been given freely." Killian replied.

Neal snorted, "Maybe you didn't torture me, no. But you didn't exactly paint the truth, did you? Neglected to tell me that you were from my world, from the Enchanted Forest."

"Would it have changed anything?" Killian advanced a step, watching Neal retreat a pace in response. "You were angry, and rightly so. I don't doubt you would have told me everything whether I told you my intentions or not."

"Maybe." Neal shook his head and opened his arms. "I was angry. I was bitter. My old man chose power over me, lied to me. So yeah, I was pretty pissed. But I never wanted him dead. I shouldn't have told you about the dagger."

"Listen." Emma stepped between them because they didn't have time to work out the past. "Killian, if you're coming with me we gotta go. Now."

"Killian?" Neal chuckled and then frowned. "Wait, you two…" He pointed between them and Emma was about to shy away from his insinuation before turning and deciding to face him.

"Yes. Us two. And if you find that a problem, then I'm sorry to remind you, but you've lost your right to have an opinion." Her eyes were fierce, over compensating for her insecurity when addressing him. The angry, loneliness, abandonment all hitting her in varying waves.

"Yeah, but Emma he's—"

"No." She interrupted firmly. "You don't get a say. You don't get an opinion. You don't get to argue. This is my choice. My decision. It's mine and I've made it." She turned her back on him and set her gaze on the door. Her back would remain straight. Her head high.

"You go, girl." Ruby whispered as Emma passed, earning a twitch of a smile. Emma hit the door and strode into the night. The tingling of the bell sounding a few beats after as Killian followed her. Her hands were shaking, but she had never felt so energized. The rush of cold air in her lungs was exhilarating and she sucked it in as her feet carried her forward. Ever forward. Because the past was gone. And the future was waiting.

* * *

**A/N: Thank you to everyone who follows, favorites, or reviews this story. I really hope you enjoyed this chapter. The plan is to alternate between these updates and my updates for "Seven Ways to Get to Know You." So I'm going to be working on that next chapter and then I can work on the next one for this. I'm able to move a lot faster now. I've gotten over the bump I had hit, so here's hoping that keeps up. Thank you for reading!**


	19. I Close My Eyes and Sleep

**NINETEEN  
I Close my Eyes and Sleep**

She had charged from the diner. He had to run to catch up to her, wincing as his body protested. Killian caught Emma's arm and she halted with a heave of her shoulders. Her eyes were hard and her jaw clenched. For a second, she had closed herself in. Retreating further into herself than when he had first met her. There was no denying that it pained him to see her like that. Avoiding his eyes was childishly stubborn, but she could not avoid it for long. Because he was never going to stop. When she finally met his eyes the tension eased from her face. She drew in a breath that threatened to become emotional. He was holding her before she could ask.

Emma would have no idea how difficult it had been to keep silent. Her crisp exchange with Baelfire, or Neal as he was now called, had put a few pieces together in his mind. He didn't know the details. But the details weren't important. He only needed to look at Emma's face when Neal had entered to know enough. Neal was her maybe. The…_once_. The love that had shattered her faith in it, stolen her trust.

Emma pulled away and rubbed the moisture from the corners of her eyes with a smile. "Yeah. So. That was intense." She choked on laughter that morphed into a sob half way up her throat. She coughed and shook her head, still smiling. Still trying to retreat into herself. Still clinging to that barrier that she believed to keep her safe. Still hiding.

Perhaps her accepting his embrace hadn't been entirely intentional. The way her demeanor had fractured after meeting his eyes, it mirrored his own confusion. In the beginning, at their first meeting, he had been struck with his own unintentioned moments. One second his goals were clear and finite. A fixed point that he could store all his concentration and energy and being. Then suddenly there was room for options. The realization that it was happening came slowly. The reason dawned on him gradually and then all at once. Emma may still have had her own realizations to find.

"Are you alright?"

She snorted, looking incredulous. He wasn't buying it. "Uh, yeah. Fine. Let's get going."

"Emma."

She huffed, eyes wide. "_What_?"

"I asked if you were alright." He didn't step toward her, gave her the space that she had created.

"Yeah. And I answered you." The exasperation in her tone was too telling. She was doing a very poor job of lying. A smile tugged at the corner of his lips because he fancied that he was the reason.

"No. You brushed my question aside. I want to know, truthfully, if you are alright."

"This is not really the time—"

"Time which you are now wasting."

Her eyes wandered out over the scenery, searching for the words she could use to throw him off. To get him to let it go. But then her eyes dropped and she sucked in her lip. "Why's it so important? Why're you _insisting_ to know if I'm okay or not?"

Her eyes shifted upward, glancing, sneaking a look because she needed the answer. That is why she had asked. To hear him say it. Strong as she was, there was that part of her that needed to hear that she mattered. Well. Then he was going to oblige, but not the way she was expecting. "Because I love you, Emma Swan." Whatever happened, it felt good to say it out loud. He pressed on, "Whatever you may think, that means that I care about what you're feeling. So when I ask, are you alright, I don't intend to be brushed aside when I can clearly see that you are not."

Silence fell. A silence that was beginning to make him worry. She had only blinked, the tiniest growth of surprise in her eyes at his confession. Now she seemed to be processing or thinking of an answer or both. Which meant that he felt every second of that silence and it was more agonizing than the dull ache threading through his nerves.

"Killian, I—"

"Isn't this just a happy little scene?" If there was a voice that could turn his entire being into icy fury, it was Cora's. Just when his next breath hung on Emma's words it is that voice that meets his ears. Cora had been useful in her time, but she had one too many strikes against her. And using his own heart against him was just one number on that list.

In hindsight, Emma had probably been right about them not having the time. Still, he doubted he would have been able to get much further, not when he still felt like the life was being drained from his limbs.

"Please, darling, we're all waiting for your heartfelt confession." Cora and Regina stalked closer, beginning to circle them. Killian had an eye on both as he moved with them, not allowing either to see his back. Emma was at his side, mirroring the him. "After all, it would make all of your sacrifice rather pointless without love as an excuse." The smile vanished and he could feel his body tense as Cora waved a hand. Damn her and magic. "Where is the dagger?"

"Not with me. And if you ever want to find it, then you need both of us alive."

Cora chuckled. "I'm not playing any more games with you. If you don't tell me, then I'll find it another way. You're not in control of this situation Miss Swan. I am." Another flick of Cora's wrist and Killian's back met the brick of the wall behind him. Jarring his spine and forcing the air from his lungs.

"Stop." Emma's shout was muffled. Far away. The edges of his vision blurred and whatever was happening to him was taking him faster. He just felt so tired. Keeping his eyes open was a chore. But he could hear Emma in the distance and then Cora and he tried to shake the dizziness from his head.

"What do you mean me? It was obviously something that you did." Emma's voice came in clear and forceful. He had missed some of the conversation, but her words were directed at Regina.

"I did not do anything to him that would cause this. Believe me. I'd take credit for it if I had. That trap would not do this to someone." Regina shrugged. "But if I'm any judge, he doesn't have much longer."

It occurred to him that during their discussion he had been granted movement again. Not that he felt like he could move, but it was an advantage. He didn't want to draw attention so he remained still, crouching on the ground where he had apparently fallen.

"Can you fix it?" Emma snapped, but he knew it was a waste of time. She was forgetting their real goal, losing sight of what they needed to do in her need to protect him.

Regina huffed, crossing her arms. "Not that I _would_, but no. I don't know what caused it so I can't fix it."

_There is no fixing it Emma. _The thought hit him with sudden clarity. There was no fixing it. Emma had kissed him. True love had kissed him and it had changed nothing. He looked at his hand, splayed across the ground to keep his balance. Given the state it was in, he could only imagine how his face must have looked. There was no telling how much time was left either. The more abuse he took, the faster his energy left him.

"What would you give us if we could?" Cora was back to sweet talking. Milking his misfortune to gain herself the dagger.

"I'm not giving you the dagger." Emma affirmed.

"Very well. You've had your chance."

His eyes caught the flicker of flame in Cora's hand. The use of fire was typical of people who relied on magic. Fire was a poor choice for any battle. It couldn't be controlled. It was fickle and unforgiving. There was no finesse. No refinement. No honor in shooting a wild ball of flame at your enemy. And he fully counted on Emma dodging Cora's initial attack. In fact, he believed it so strongly that he acted as if it had already happened. He lunged. Cora attacked.

It took a good portion of his remaining strength to even straighten his legs. But he managed to catch Cora by the throat and keep his momentum until he was behind her, his hook pressed to her neck. He caught Emma's eye as he moved, confirming that the attack had missed. Now they had gained some ground. Regina hesitated, her eyes on her mother. Waiting for an order. It was Regina's weakness. She had given in and now relied on her mother's direction. Without it she was lost.

Emma approached Regina, her hand out. "Hear me out, Regina."

"Why?" Regina's voice was scathing. She was being backed into a corner and that is when people were at their most dangerous. Emma stilled, keeping her distance.

"Emma, go." He didn't want to hear any more wasting time. He couldn't afford for Emma to miss her chance because she was worried about getting them both out of there. Emma frowned, her eyes meeting him with a defiant glare.

"Not without you—"

"Emma." _You can't help either of us without Cora's heart. If you know where it is, then you have to go._

She shook her head again. But he could see sense returning to her. She would convince herself that it was the best shot for both of them. He had his heart back. He had the current upper hand. Even if he knew that nothing would change for him, he was willing to let her believe that. Emma wasted another few seconds being noble before she was taking off, running up the sidewalk. Regina was about to follow when he provoked a small cry from Cora.

He kept Regina's attention until Emma disappeared from view. Now it was just him and two very pissed off witches. It didn't help that he wasn't exactly at the top of his game at the moment. Well, this will be interesting.

"So is it a standoff then?" Regina began to circle them, but Killian turned with her using Cora as his shield.

"It _had_ been a standoff, Regina. Now I hold all the cards and you have nothing." He had no idea where to go next. Which was scary because he always knew where he was going. This time he had stepped first and the fatigue in his bones had snuck up to his brain. There was no next move.

"Hardly. If you kill her then I kill you." Regina countered.

"Well, I'm already dead. But I'm willing to see who lasts longer."

"Where did you send her?" Regina narrowed her eyes. "There's no way she would have left you without a reason."

He smiled, "That's the beauty of holding all the cards. You don't get to ask me questions."

His hold was slipping. The wave of dizziness hit him and he staggered. The tip of his hook cut into Cora's neck causing a dot of blood before he was thrown backward. This time there was no wall readily available so he fell into the road. It was merely adrenaline that fueled him. A quick burst that was even now subsiding as he got up before their spell could hit him and put himself between them and the path that Emma had taken. No plan. No idea. No fucking strength left. But he could _not_ allow them to follow. Not while he was conscious.

Their attacks came swiftly. They advanced and his footing began to waver. He was dodging erratically. No rhyme or reason to his movements except get the hell out of the way. They were mostly toying with him now. Watching the energy slowly leave him while his will forced him onward. It was frustrating to no end that his body was not responding the way he wanted it to. That he no longer held the ability to think ahead. That he was going to die before Emma could come back.

"Hook." The vague sound of his name halted the onslaught. He teetered on his feet and then something clunked against his chest and he staggered backwards.

"Oops. I thought you would catch that…" It was Ruby's voice. When it dawned on him that she had tossed him a weapon he fell to his knees and felt along the pavement until he felt steel in his hand. Judging from the array of voices, more than Ruby had joined the party. He took a few breathes. He just needed to rest. To close his eyes for two minutes. That was it. Just two minutes and…

"Mother?" Regina's voice cut through the rest. Standing, he watched her run to Cora who held her hand to her chest. And he knew that Emma had won. She'd have the upper hand now. She'd be smart. She wouldn't lose the advantage. She held Cora's heart in her hand and now she could win. The sword slipped from his fingers.

Emma could do it. Cora would lose. He didn't have to worry. His knees gave out, hitting the ground and reverberating up his back.

He was just so tired. Black swirled on the edge of his vision. He wanted to hold on. Emma wasn't back yet and somehow he felt if he fell asleep he wouldn't be waking up. His eyes fell closed. There was nothing left to hold him upright. Pain was beyond him when he finally fell. Emma was going to be okay…she could win…be happy…live…have…

* * *

**A/N: I know...another cliffhanger...and Killian...and I'm so sorry. This is where the chapter ended. I had no control. Honestly. This is just what the story wanted. The next chapter will most likely be the end. Or second to end. But the end is close. So hope you bare with me for the end. Thank you so much to all my followers, favoriters, and reviewers. I hope you enjoyed the chapter. Thank you for reading. ^_^  
**


	20. Trust

**A/N: Finally. I'm so sorry for the wait. This chapter reflects (a tiny bit) on recent events and the way things played out in the finale...in a way...sort of. Anyway, this isn't the last chapter. The next one will be. Thank you for sticking with me and hope you enjoy the chapter.**

**TWENTY  
Trust**

She had nearly turned around. Twice. Each time she compensated by running faster. The darkness grew more pressing as she left the main road, but she could see enough in the moonlight to find her way. The mausoleum waited in stark contrast to the night and she didn't stop until she hit the door. She wasted no time in locating the haphazard gathering of Cora's belongings. The pile stood out in the halls of stone and marble.

Emma's eyes scanned for a place to begin and she dove for a taller upright trunk with drawers. She tossed clothes over her shoulder and knocked precariously stacked boxes to the floor. Her eyes caught another set of drawers and she stomped booted feet toward it. A gentle thumping led her to an ornamental box holding what she had been looking for. Emma snapped the lid closed after checking and stuffed it under her arm. She still didn't know if she was doing this the right way. Being a hero looked all fine and well on television, but it wasn't always so simple. The choices before her all had their merits.

Killing Cora was the simplest. She wouldn't even need to return to him. She could do it. Right there. Emma's feet were carrying her up the stairs and toward the night air, but her eyes were on the box in her hands. Heroes didn't have to kill. As much as it seemed the more logical choice, she knew that Henry would be disappointed in her. She knew that she'd be disappointed in herself for not trying another route.

Emma broke into a run once outside. Her lungs began to burn and she had never thought herself out of shape, but sprinting in such brisk air was leaving its mark in the painful constricting of her lungs. She never stopped, but she had to switch between jogging and running. She could hear before she could see the commotion that had arisen in her absence. As she turned one final corner, she saw four figures on one side and two on the other. She scanned each face but did not notice Killian among the group. Nerves twisted in her stomach and she swallowed them down and buried her fear under steadfast determination. Worrying would not help anything.

A few cars were ablaze, thrown askew of their parking spaces. The fronts of the building had taken their hits, a few holes in the brick or singed awnings. The force of four had held up their end, but Regina and her mother didn't seem the least bit frazzled. The others: Mary Margret, David, Ruby, and Neal, were panting and battered. In the space of a blink the scene rearranged. David had rushed in while Mary Margret sent an arrow over his shoulder as cover. While he rushed, Ruby and Neal had swarmed to either side. Mary Margret had already sent two more arrows toward the defenses of Regina and Cora. Emma's breath caught when it looked like at least one of the three attackers would find their enemy in range. With a wave of hands Ruby, David, and Neal collided into a column of purple smoke. They had managed to redirect their weapons to keep from spearing each other, but they were thrown to the ground in a heap. Mary Margret had an arrow ready, spinning to try find where the witches had teleported.

It was a mess. Emma was closer now, the anticipation of watching their newest attack having stilled her reflexes to jump into the fray. David used his sword to stand upright, his knuckles bloody on the hilt and a scrape over his forehead. Neal was nursing a split lip from where his face had hit Ruby's head. Ruby's hair was a tangle, but her and Mary Margret showed the least damage. Whether it had been the better option or not, Emma cringed at the bitter taste of guilt in the back of her throat. She still couldn't see what had happened to Killian, but she knew that he couldn't be any better off. It felt like each wound was her fault. And it only then occurred to her that she could have helped by taking advantage of the heart tucked under her arm.

"Emma." Mary Margret was the first to notice her, running forward. "Emma where have you been?"

"I had to…" Emma blinked, shaking away the doubt pooling in her chest. "I had to get something. It's the only way we can stop her."

"Cora?" Mary Margret raised an eyebrow and then her eyes found the box and her mouth fell open. "Emma…what is that?"

"It's the only way."

Mary Margret's voice dropped. "You're going to kill her?"

"No. You think I would have waited this long if that was the plan?"

"I don't understand. Then what are you going to do?"

Emma's mouth fell closed and she looked past her mother. David was walking toward them, but his sword was drawn and his eyes were still in search. Ruby was hanging back, sniffing the air.

"I don't know where they went, but I think we should take it as a retreat." David met Emma's eyes and he frowned. "What?"

Mary Margret answered, turning to her husband and shaking her head. "No. This isn't a retreat. They were winning. They're here somewhere."

David's shoulders fell a fraction, and his breathing was still labored. "Then they're planning to catch us by surprise. They could have teleported anywhere and come at us from any angle." He nodded and lifted his sword again.

"Where's Killian?"

Mary Margret's face went straight and she looked at David quickly.

"Where is he."

"Emma. There was nothing—"

"Where?" Emma shrugged off her mother's extended hand. All she wanted was an answer to her question. Just a simple answer. No excuses. No sympathy.

David was the one who answered, walking her over to where Neal and Ruby had gathered. They were both crouched, whispering. When they heard footsteps they stood up and turned their gaze away from Emma. There was nothing surprising about the scene. She had known the answer as soon as she had asked.

He could have been sleeping.

"Emma…" Mary Margret's voice was beside her, breaking over her daughter's name and a trembling hand rising to her lips. "Honey…I'm so sorry."

As Emma stood on that sidewalk looking down defiance echoed in her brain. No. _No_. She was not going to accept it. Because he was not dead. And she wasn't going to let him. Destiny had thrown them together. Destiny had decided that of all the realms in all of time, this was the guy she was supposed to be with. Okay. Fine. She'd run with it. In her own way, at her own pace, in her own time, she'd decided that that was okay. She had. And now this. Now destiny was taking it all back. Or maybe destiny had always planned on this. Or maybe Emma's future was meant for heartbreak. Maybe that was what _destiny_ wanted for her. Well screw fucking destiny, cause she was not having it.

Emma turned on her heel and snapped the clasp clean off the box in her hands. She threw the thing open and dumped the heart into her open palm.

"Emma. Emma?" Mary Margret was at her side, twittering like a bird that Emma had no interesting in hearing. "You're angry, sweetheart. I understand that. But you have to think. Revenge is not going to bring him back—it's only going to hurt _you_ and please listen to me—you can't bring him back—"

Emma stopped and held the beating heart in her hand, holding it in front of her face. "Watch me." Emma was in the middle of the street and she held the heart up to her mouth. "Now."

Cora appeared in a puff of smoke. Her face drawn into a scowl. She wasn't laughing anymore. "Well. You've found my heart, how fortunate for you. You'll think you've won now, but—"

"Fix him." Emma wasn't in the mood for banter.

There was a moment where Cora's face twitched, her legs almost moving, but she remained still. "You'll have to be more specific."

"Killian. I don't care what you have to."

Cora chuckled and then doubled over. Emma's fist shook as she gave a gentle squeeze.

"Emma. This is not the way to do things. You're torturing her—" Mary Margret gasped, hand over her mouth.

The laughter was gone when Cora stood upright. "I can't. There is no magic that can bring back the dead. I can't help him."

"He's _not_ dead." Emma took a step forward. "There was something done to him. Some sort of magic that did this. Which means it can be reversed."

"Certainly. Just kiss him and make it all better." Cora sneered, she righted her shoulders and fixed a few strands of misplaced hair.

"I—" Emma's voice finally shook. "I did. It didn't work."

"Then what do you expect me to do? True love's kiss is the only cure all when it comes to curses. If that didn't work, there is nothing else to be done. He'd dead, girl. And you'll be the better for it."

If Mary Margret's hand hadn't curled over Emma's wrist she would have squeezed until there was nothing but dust. It was only the steady hand of her mother that had stayed Emma's surge of fury.

"This is not the way. You're angry. You'll regret it." Mary Margret's voice was soft. She gently eased Emma's fingers open.

Emma turned, Cora forgotten. "I am not letting this happen. Magic did this. Magic will take it back."

Mary Margret hesitated before nodding. "Of course. If there's anything that we can do, we'll find it. But Cora can't help us. And hurting her won't change anything."

Ruby was at their side, having heard everything whether meant to or not. "You mean the Blue Fairy."

"I think she's our only chance…" Mary Margret nodded and Ruby started running. She was faster than anyone else present and the least injured. Once Ruby was out of sight, Mary Margret turned back to her daughter, sparing Cora a glance as she held out her hand. Emma moved, offering the heart to her mother because suddenly, it felt like acid against her fingertips.

"I think I'll be taking that, Miss Swan."

"Regina you foolish girl. I told you not to follow unless instructed." Regina had appeared between Cora and Emma. Her eyes lost a bit of their edge once scolded, but she brushed the remark aside and kept her hand extended toward Emma.

Emma's hand closed over the heart. "Why on earth would I give it to you?"

"Because I was listening to your little problem. And you're right, the pirate is under a curse."

"What? What curse? Tell me, Regina." Emma pressed, but Regina grinned. Now she knew she had leverage.

"I tell you. You give me my mother's heart." Regina offered.

Emma looked at her hand, red pulsing against her closed fingers. She had had a plan at first. A vague idealistic plan to give control of the heart to Regina. Once Emma could talk to her, to reason with Regina, she felt she would have been able to convince her that they had both wanted the same thing. They both wanted what was best for Henry. Regina had tried to change once for her son and Emma had no doubt that it was Cora's influence that had destroyed that. And maybe it was a risk. And she hadn't fully decided on it at the time, but she thought of Henry and this was the only option that gave him what he wanted.

Now the plan didn't seem all that realistic. Emma could be returning all the power right back into their hands if she went through with it. Heroes never had the easy decision. If it was her own safety for Henry's happiness she'd risk it without hesitation. But it wasn't just her on the line. Even if Regina had information that might save Killian, there was no stopping them from just killing everyone right after.

"What'll it be, Miss Swan. Your boyfriend. Or my mother." Regina felt she had the upper hand. She thought she had won by appealing to the one weakness that any hero suffers—love. But she was wrong.

"No." Emma said and relished the satisfaction of Regina's frown of surprise.

"No?"

"You heard me Regina. I'm not trading this heart on the chance that what you tell me might work." Emma took a deep breath. "But I am willing to make a different deal."

The Queen did not like being wrong. "What deal?"

Emma nodded to her mother. Her head was more clear, less fogged by anger and suppressed grief. She had to believe that this would work. That everything would work. Or she wouldn't have been able to continue.

"Here it is. You tell me what you did to Killian. Help Mother Superior save him. Then…then I'll give you the heart to do what you want with."

Regina paused, considering. She glanced over her shoulder, looking to her mother for guidance but Emma whispered into the heart before Cora could respond. Cora could say nothing to sway her daughter's decision. Regina lost some of her confidence, her shoulders falling.

"How do I know you'll hold up your end? You could very well decide to betray your word."

"That's the thing, Regina. You'll have to trust me. Because I'll be trusting you."

Mary Margret blinked, looking at her daughter. But Emma ignored the staring.

"How is that?" Regina asked.

"I'll be trusting that if I give you this heart, you'll use it to do the right thing. For Henry." Emma pressed on, noting Regina's shift in posture as a good sign. "All that kid wants is a family. I don't want to keep taking that from him. You said you could change once Regina and I believed you. Or I had given you the chance to. But no one believed in you like Henry. I don't know what your mother was offering you, but I can tell you that it's not going to help you get to Henry, no matter what she told you."

"What would you know of that? What would you know of any of it? You don't, Miss Swan. None of you do. You see the Evil Queen and that's all you'll ever see. Well fine. I can't change that and I'm done pretending like I can."

"What? Because after two weeks of trying to play nice people didn't embrace you with open arms? You have to give people time. Nothing is going to erase the harm you've done to people, to everyone in this town. Maybe the problem is that you need to stop focusing on other people and make the change for yourself. If you listen to Cora, if you destroy everyone in your way to get to Henry, you'll never have him. You have to see that. He'll never love you."

"But he can if—"

"No. He will never love you, Regina. That's a fact. Not of his own free will. And not at the cost of everyone he loves. And it's not his job to love you. It's your—_our_ job as parents to earn it. He doesn't owe either of us anything. We owe him. So we have to take responsibility for that." Emma held the heart forward. "It may take a while for people to trust you. But I'm willing, right now, to put my money on your love for Henry being stronger than your hate. Am I wrong?"

Regina didn't answer. Emma could hear Ruby returning. She needed whatever Regina knew to save Killian. And she was not in the mood to be patient. But Regina was cracking. She wasn't refusing. And Emma would give her another minute, no longer, before she took the offer away and took a more direct route. It wasn't what she wanted, but if it would save Killian's life there was little she wouldn't do to achieve that. Regina's shot at a peaceful resolution was slipping fast.

Finally Regina took in a breath, her eyes on Emma. "Since lifting the curse I've brought some of my old potions home to test them. Magic works differently here. While Hook was in my basement…he had knocked one of my vials over. It was an experimental mixture, testing the boundaries I might face here, and when he showed no affects I brushed it off as a failure. The potion, however, was intended to siphon out a person's soul. I took the idea from the wraith and thought I could manipulate it into a handy little curse to be used at my discretion. I suppose, since he didn't ingest any, the affects were slower moving."

"His soul?" Emma swallowed, cringing.

"Yes. His soul. And I don't know how long the process will take, but my guess is there's very little of it left in him if any at all." Regina sighed, still unconcerned about the outcome. But she at least had offered the information.

Emma followed the path of Ruby leading the Mother Superior toward Killian. She ran to catch up to them, closing her eyes when she saw him. Before her denial had been stronger than what her eyes were seeing. Her mind hadn't read the ghostly pallor of his cheeks. Or the brush strokes of red on his forehead and hands, smears of it across the concrete. His chest didn't rise and fall with breath. He could have been sleeping. But now it was clear that he wasn't.

A sob choked out of Emma before she could stop it. She slapped her hand over her mouth, urging her trembling hands to steady. She was going to bring him back. She had to. Cause this…this feeling. It wasn't just about losing someone she cared about. This was loneliness. So profound and deep there was no going back. Emma Swan didn't need a man in her life. She'd proven that over and over. She knew it. She was confident in that fact. But suddenly she understood everything. She understood that needing _him_ didn't make her weak. And Emma Swan finally understood her parents. She truly and completely understood their sappy, impossible, unequivocal belief that at the beginning and end of every _single_ day they were only and ever meant for each other. They were partners and friends and lovers and all the layers between. And now, when she was about to lose it, she finally understood it. That love wasn't about dependence or weakness or relying on other people. It was about what you were together. Strength in what you share. And Emma Swan might have lost that forever.

She was on her knees beside him. Tears had fallen, but she didn't remember letting them. Everyone surrounded her. Quiet and waiting. It was the scene at the end of a film. Where the supporting cast waits around the fallen hero with heads bowed and grief in their eyes. Emma wiped her cheeks on the back of her hand. She ran the other over his chest, waiting for the pulse beneath her fingers that wouldn't come.

"Is there a way?" Emma's eyes snapped upward, catching Mother Superior off her guard. "Is there a way?"

Mother Superior seemed in conflict. She bent down and pressed her hand over Killian's forehead. Her eyes closed for the briefest of seconds and then she stood back. "Yes."

"What?" Emma stood, that word the most uplifting thing she had heard all day.

The Nun/Fairy looked at Emma as she spoke, "He does not have long, but part of his soul clings to him. There isn't much left, but until his soul completely leaves his body he can be saved."

"How? What do I have to do?" Emma sniffed, hating that her nose was running from the flow of tears.

Mother Superior frowned. "And…the kiss did not work?"

"No. I tried that. I had kissed him hours ago and nothing had changed. It didn't stop it. Is there nothing else? Is that really the only thing in this fucking universe that works? Cause that's shit. That's just completely shitty. What if I wasn't here? What if your true love is dead? There _has_ to be another way."

"I'm sorry, Emma. But with so little time left to us…there is no other option. If your kiss didn't work, and you are true love, then no power I have is going to save him…" She trailed off, clearly not enjoying the news she had to deliver but Emma was past caring about her guilty conscience.

"That's bull shit." Emma shook her head.

"I'm very sorry." She shook her head, hands clasped in front of her. "If nothing has changed since you last kissed him…"

"What?" Emma cleared her throat, the desperation that she was going to lose him making her voice crack. "What are you implying?"

"I'm implying that…in your land magic doesn't work exactly the same way it did in the Enchanted Forest. The power of true love's kiss is a magic. Nothing has been tested, but I believe that merely sharing a kiss may not be enough if the curse is strong enough." This brought some hope back into Mother Superior's eyes.

"Merely a kiss? What's that supposed to mean?" Emma blinked.

"It means, that a kiss by itself _may_ not be enough to—"

Emma threw off her jacket and reached for her belt buckle.

"Emma what are you doing?" Mother Superior gasped, reaching out to stop her.

"What? You said 'just a kiss' isn't enough. Well. How far do I need to take this, cause if it'll bring him back I don't care." She couldn't look in the direction of Mary Margret and David. Their faces would have made her second guess herself.

"That…that is not what I meant." She put a hand over her forehead, taking a deep breath. "Nothing like that. A kiss is still required. I meant that you might need to add some of your own magic to the kiss. You need to trust in your ability to wake him and you need to believe that you are meant to be. That should give the magic the boost it needs to free him."

Emma nodded, doing the top button of her jeans back up. "That's it? I just need to try really hard, is that what you're telling me?"

"Magic is a fickle thing Emma. It draws its power from the wielder. On its own it is merely energy. You are the conductor. You need to direct that energy. So yes. You need to try really really hard. But it should work. And if not…there is no other option." She spent too much time talking to Dr. Whale. But in the end, if there was a chance it could work, no matter how sappy, who was she to question?

Emma put a hand on either side of his head, braced on the sidewalk. The first time she had kissed him it had been out of impulse. She hadn't actually meant for it to happen. This time she would mean it wholeheartedly and without any doubt that this was what she wanted. That she wanted her kiss to wake him because she didn't want to lose him. Not ever. And just as her lips were about to meet his, she knew that it would. The confidence that he would come back to her guided her mouth and when their lips met she could feel nothing but cold. But she didn't stop. She held on. This was it. This was her last chance to save him. And she was not stopping until someone pried her off his body. And after each second she tried not to lose her hope. Emma held on to her faith as long as she possibly could. Even when the back of her head screamed that it had already been too long and that he was not going to wake up. And a tear spilled down her cheek, hot on her skin. She was not going to give up. No matter what. She had to—

"Should I feel violated?"

* * *

**A/N: So yeah. Obviously it had to work. Cause there is no way he was dying. Hope the resolution wasn't...too cheesy for you? Eh. I don't know. It's kinda where I planned on going, but in hindsight I'm not entirely sure about the idea. Anyway. Next chapter is falling action, resolution, ending sort of stuff. The bit with Regina was the part that was infulenced by the finale. It kinda plays into how Emma had put a bit of faith in Regina at the end there and seemed willing to give her another chance for Henry. My story didn't play out quite the same as the cannon (haha obviously) but I think it's a logical path for her to take. Thank you for reading. I really can't belive how many people follow/favorite/review this story. I mean, I'm winging it here. Everything after chapter three is straight from the air. I had no plans. But I think it turned out decent enough. ^_^  
**


	21. Their Story isn't Over, But This One Is

**TWENTY-ONE**

**Their Story isn't Over, But This One Is**

In that instant, a tranquil numbness soothed the pain and pleasure had begun to seep through the cracks. When he'd last closed his eyes he hadn't planned to wake up. While he had been fighting for consciousness, his thoughts had run their own course, grasping for anything that might keep him awake. In all the years he'd spent gathering memories, the ones burning brightest were of his blonde savior. Emma was the light that had guided him, a lighthouse in a chaotic storm. The light he'd been walking towards since their first meeting. And for a time, he had no way to measure; thoughts of her had been a comfort. But it was his fortune returned, for none of it lasted. The agony of the curse that was killing him had crossed the line from bearable suffering, a distant dream. He was falling where there was no return. And in the end, the true end, the last thoughts he could account for were not fond memories but the loss of a future. It was the first time in so many years he did not look up his own path with decided morbidity. There was nothing of the scheme that had shaped the last three centuries of his life. In the end, he thought of his beginning. The one that had started, but that he would never finish. And if he had any tears, any control or function over the body that was failing him, he'd have cried at the loss. Because he finally wanted to live and here he was dying.

Another pulse of feeling flickered and died. Warmth, wet, pressing bliss igniting him slowly at first, then all at once—tangible weight in the mouth pushing the last of her strength into a kiss that had tears running down her cheeks. Then he was conscious. And he should have kept his bloody mouth shut.

When Emma heard him speak, she pulled away and with her went the comatose detachment that had shielded him. The smirk he'd been wearing twisted into a grimace as true pain flooded every nerve and blanketed his senses in one quick surge before becoming a dull ache. Every limb throbbed and breathing became an effort, but he _was_ alive and that was a step forward.

"Killian?" Emma sat forward, smiling so fully it brought the sun to shame. She smiled through the tears pouring down her face. Then she wiped them away with the back of her hand, kneeling over him. "You—" She sniffed, "you scared me for a second there." A broken laugh fell from her throat that pushed more tears from her eyes.

"Just keeping you on your toes, love." He wasn't sure if he smirked or grimaced, but either way it hurt. Emma's fingers ghosted over his hair, stroking lightly as she bent her head and closed her eyes. He was still tired, still sore and drained, but he let his eyes fall closed without a fight this time. Her hands, her warmth, her scent…all he wanted was to appreciate the feel of her, the reality of it. He'd have been content with this, just as it was. She rubbed her forehead along his, dripping silent tears over his face. Their noses brushed with each slow turn of her head. Eventually, the force of exhaustion pulled him to sleep. This time he was confident he'd wake up.

When he opened his eyes, he was in another of those white rooms with the cotton clothes and obnoxious lights. He found he could move his arms, which proved two things, that he wasn't chained to the bed and that movement didn't cause him considerable effort or nauseating pain. In fact, he felt fine, actually rested and comfortable. He sat straight without issue, the blankets falling into his lap, while he scanned the room for his clothes. They were folded neatly on a chair with his boots thrown underneath, right next to his bed.

Whatever curse he'd been under, it was over now. Besides a bit of stiffness in his legs, he felt ready to be out of that drab hospital. He began his second fight with a hospital gown and this round he had his hook as an advantage. The pieces lay where they fell when he began sorting his own clothes. The shirt was the first thing he found and he had just begun to pull it over his head when the door opened.

"Good mornin—Oh." Mary Margret's mouth fell open, her eyes growing round. "Oh. _Oh_. My God. I am…" She lifted a hand to her eyes, backing into David as she tried to retreat. "I'm so sorry. I should…knock. I'm sorry. I'll just—we'll just be out here until you're, hm, more decent. Okay? Okay." Nervous words tumbled from her mouth until her hand finally found the door handle and she slammed it shut.

Killian had never considered himself modest, but his shirt had been in place seconds after she'd opened the door. The lower half was completely hidden by the bed. Still, it brought a cheeky grin to his face as he finished with the rest of his clothes before opening the door.

Mary Margret couldn't meet his eyes, her fair skin burning red. David didn't seem too pleased with the situation, his mouth a straight firm line of disapproval. But honestly, it wasn't Killian's fault.

"While I've nothing to hide, you might serve us both better by knocking." He felt it a personal accomplishment that he did not take full advantage of the ammunition present in the situation they'd presented. Her pursed lipped nod was her only reply. He stepped aside and motioned for them to enter. "I assume you have something to tell me?"

"Yes. Actually, we did." Mary Margret looked at her husband, her fingers twisting around each other. "What we, both of us, wanted to say was that…" She let out a breath, the flush fading from her cheeks. "Is that you have proved to be so much more than we had given you credit for. Emma…she's a special girl. She deserves the kind of man that will fight to keep her. That will put her first and treat her like she's special, because she is and I'm not sure she'll ever realize that. I would never have guessed that person to be you, not at first…" She smiled, the effect of which was akin to comfort. "But I was wrong. You've given Emma something real; you've done for her what no one else has. Even Henry or me…we've shown her what a family can be, but you've shown her what love can be and that is _so_ very important." She looked down where her fingers were laced with David's. "Hook—I mean, Killian. You two bring out the best in each other, and that's what true loves are meant to do."

At first, Killian was silent. Appreciating exactly what Mary Margret was saying. It was not something he'd ever imagined himself hearing, let alone that he'd be grateful and a little touched. Acceptance was not the game here. His only goal, his only concern, had been for Emma and her affections. It was apparent now that Emma would come with more than just Henry. It came with her parents, her friends and all the other characters of Storybrooke. As unnatural as it sounded to him, to his innate sense of drifting with the wind, it didn't scare him.

"You have my word," He looked to each of them, "That for as long as I breathe Emma's happiness will be my life's ambition. You said to me once that there was no room for revenge if I was to truly love your daughter." He paused, letting out a small sigh. "I may not have understood you then, but I do now. You'll have to forgive me, I lack much experience when it comes to a parent's concern for their child. But what I mean to say is that I am grateful…for your approval of me. When I might not have been before."

Mary Margret took his right hand, squeezing it and beaming with that sunshine and rainbow smile. "If it makes any difference, we're not really used to dealing with the pirate boyfriend issue either. We'll have to figure it out together."

He smiled, staring at his hand where she held it. This motherly thing she had a habit of inflicting…it was going to take some getting used to.

David stepped forward now that his wife had finished. "A few days ago, I would have started this conversation with, 'you break her heart, I break your neck.'" The Prince sighed, holding out his hand. "But that doesn't really feel necessary now."

Feeling their heart to heart had run its course, Killian asked where he could find Emma. If he was being honest, he'd been disappointed that Emma hadn't been the first to greet him.

"Well, you've been asleep for a few days now. Emma's been busy taking care of things…mostly Cora related."

"Ah yes. Cora. What did happen after I…well, died?"

She shrugged, her smile falling. "After we got you out of there, there was a bit of a stand-off. Emma still had Cora's heart and some of the people were calling for her to crush it…others to use it to control Cora…But Emma doesn't take orders very well. In the end, she felt a show of faith was the best course of action."

"Faith? In whom?"

"In Regina." Mary Margret didn't sound as if she supported this plan. He face looked worried and David's hand went to her shoulder.

"So she gave the heart to Regina." From what Killian had observed of that family, crushing that heart would have been a kindness to both Storybrooke and Regina.

"Yes. She put the power in Regina's hands hoping that she'd make the right decision. For herself and for Henry."

"And what did _the Queen_ do with this show of faith?"

"Regina returned the heat to its rightful home." Mary Margret toyed with her necklace, looking thoughtful as she recalled the memories. "Cora protested at first, but then the heart went in and she looked at Regina…and smiled. It was—it was actually very touching. I don't think she has ever seen her daughter, not really. There had never ever been love in her eyes, never. Not until two days ago."

Killian was skeptical of showing any faith in either Regina or her mother. Regina's heart had been intact when she'd ordered him to kill Cora, he didn't hold much stock in Cora's intent or means changing because of hers had returned. Maybe nothing would come of it and both of them could find a way to get along that didn't involve destroying Storybrooke. But only time would test that theory. He did fully intend on relaying his concerns to Emma, however, just not in the immediate future.

"Mom, Dad." Emma halted in the doorway, masking her surprise with a shrug as she put her hands in her back pockets. "What, uh, what're you doing here?"

"We were just leaving." Mary Margret took David's hand and halted only to squeeze Emma's before leaving. And then they were alone. Seemed that serious talks in hospital rooms were becoming a bit of a pattern for them.

"Well then." He started, walking around the bed, arms crossed. "Here we are. Back where it all started." He smirked, then cleared his throat. "Not _technically_ where it all began, but where you first proved the knight to my damsel in distress."

"Come on, it's not like that." She smirked, though. "And, for the record, you should stop getting yourself nearly killed." She chuckled. He could see that something weighed on her mind, that there something she wanted to say. The better part of him hoped it was a confession. Much the same as he had made just before things had gone all to hell. Emma had meant to reply, but her answer was cut short. Whatever had inspired him to announce his feelings for her, there was neither remorse nor denying it. But the situation was unresolved. The unspoken rejection or reciprocation was standing between them, a force that kept them from engaging physically thus far into the conversation.

His fear remained, however. Evidence that Emma cared was undeniable. Whether that implied deeper affections was uncertain. She'd adamantly protested the magic of true love's kiss. As surely as he wanted to believe in their happily-ever-after, or however the stories put it, there was no certainty in her intentions. Caring was not the same as love and true love could take other forms than that of romantic love. And though he wouldn't argue or protest whatever decision she made, the nervous pounding in his chest was proof enough that a choice not in his, or their, favor would be a devastating blow.

Her feet carried her to him, but not close enough to touch. "Look. I think I owe you some...explaining…so here it is. Back there, I thought you were gone. You…looked, felt…dead. Gone. I don't know what…" She took a breath and rubbed her fingers over her face. "I've never felt like that before. Not—here's the thing. I lose people all the time…or, they'd lose me. So I know what it feels like when people leave. When they're taken away from you. You know, it's always been…that moment of denial. For a second. Then it sinks in and it's just…not surprising. It's just what happens to me. Just one more person gone. One more reason why I should only worry about myself. One more reason to stay alone. And it made me harder. Each time, it just, it makes you want to be less vulnerable." She sniffed, but her eyes were still dry. Then she smiled. "So when I say I know what it feels like to lose someone, I do. I've been there…" She stopped and sucked in a sob, holding herself together.

While she spoke he had stayed where he sat. There was nothing so terrible as the tears of Emma Swan. But now he moved so that they were toe to toe. His eyes were on her as he lifted her chin with the side of his finger. The smile she wore coaxed a tear down her cheek.

"I know what I've been saying. About this…the whole 'true love' thing. I wouldn't accept it then, but now…but I can now. Not because of any kiss or because destiny says so. Because when you had me locked in that jail cell," She let out a chocked laugh, "When you locked me in there, you came back. When I asked you why you'd given up on revenge, even when you swore up and down how hard it was, you said it was for me but I know it was for you, for us too. When I wanted to leave, call this whole 'us' thing nonsense and move on, you wouldn't stop. You just kept pushing and you've done that since the beginning. And I'm just—no one's ever really tried that hard with me. No one's bothered. And I don't always make it easy."

He laughed, wiping another stray tear with his thumb. "You certainly don't, lass. I've never met a woman more headstrong and I've been around a good while." He brushed her hair from her face where it stuck to her wet cheeks. "Nor a more brilliant, strong, admirable one. I'd lived a long time believing that I could never be happy again. There was no peace or hope left for me. Until I'd found a path worth following."

They stood a moment, hearts beating soundly in time, their chests pressed together. He dipped his head, meeting her mouth with parted lips. Emma breathed into him, her hands holding the back of his neck while her tongue ignited with passion. Lusty moans rattled against tonsils while hands groped and squeezed.

Emma pulled him back by his hair, looking up at him with darkened eyes. "I'm in love you." She panted, her fingers churning the hair at his neck. "I wanted to say it…"

Breathing labored, his reply was low and raspy. "I am…devoutly," her mouth trailed down his neck, pulling him backward with lips and teeth, "Gods, maddeningly…in love with you."

They fell backward, the bed breaking their fall. It had been Emma who'd objected to a hospital room the first time, more largely based on the fear of them being discovered together intimately. This time there was no stopping in sight.

Over the next hour they did very little talking. There would be time for talking later, and for however long they wanted. Their story doesn't end with them falling in love or having lots of really good sex. Their future had never been brighter. And it was all thanks to a kiss that neither wanted. A destiny that neither one could understand. A fate that had transcended realms and time whether they liked it or not. Something greater had forced their journeys to become one, but they had chosen the courage to walk that path together.

**The End**For real this time...

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**A/N:** So it's finally done. I hope everyone enjoyed this final chapter. And I hope you don't hate me too much for the long hiatus in uploading. I was fail. A huge- colossal- ginormous- hug to everyone who follows/favorites/reviews. You all made this thing happen. Seriously. Love to everyone.

And I would like to thank itscalledtrustdarling for inspiring me to get working on this last chapter. I might not have gotten around to it until Season Three otherwise.

Also, a huge thank you to my beta for this chapter, musingsfrommymessymind. She was a big help with the final touches this chapter needed.

And now I am leaving. It has been a pleasure writing this story and sharing it with all of you. Even the times when it was a grueling pulling hair out pain. I still loved it. My plan is to find some inspiration in Season Three for another multichapter. If not, definitely be on the look out for one-shots. Until next time my lovely readers. ^_^


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